


Fair Verona

by rootbeer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - War, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Arranged Marriage, BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, But also, Established Relationship, F/M, Hale Pack, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, McCall Pack, Rival Relationship, Romeo and Juliet References, Secret Relationship, Slow Build, its kinda complicated, rival packs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rootbeer/pseuds/rootbeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Questions: Is it still an arranged marriage if the two getting married are the ones who arranged it, even if no one else knows that?</b>.</p><p>
  <i>“Alpha Hale we have exhausted almost every possible avenue that I can think of in order to find middle ground between your two packs. The Hale Pack and The McCall Pack simply have too much hatred and history between the two of them to accept terms. This is what I have to offer you. I thought both of these packs were committed to trying everything they could to find peace after all these years.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Scott seemed to recover first, calmly asking, “Deaton you’re not honestly arranging a marriage between Derek Hale and Stiles, are you?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uncrossing Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet? Regardless, you probably know the story. 
> 
> Two households, both alike in dignity,  
> In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,  
> From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
> Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
> 
> But Derek and Stiles aren't exactly Romeo and Juliet. They're better than that, smarter than that.

 

**August 1, 2015**

“Alan, forgive me if I’m wrong,” Peter Hale said, shifting forward so that he could fold his hands at the edge of the table, “but it sounds like you’re suggesting an arranged marriage.” He spoke to Deaton but his eyes were fixed on his nephew who sat on his right.

“Yes, I suppose that’s accurate. Though I’d suggest a Moon Union Marriage.” Deaton looked almost amused at the faces around the table.

“You’re joking,” Erica said a little hysterical from Peter’s other side.

“Despite the fact that both of your packs cannot behave in any way but childishly,” Deaton said sternly, “I am not giving up on you. I do think that it will help the situation. I know you both want an end to all this pointless fighting as much as anyone does.”

The room went silent. Stiles flickered his gaze to Scott, trying to remain calm even as his heart pounded in his chest. Scott’s eyes met his for half a second and then darted away.

“I think that’s a little extreme,” Laura Hale said, her composure not quite as calm as Scott’s.

“Alpha Hale we have exhausted almost every possible avenue that I can think of in order to find middle ground between your two packs. The Hale Pack and The McCall Pack simply have too much hatred and history between the two of them to accept terms. This is what I have to offer you. I thought both of these packs were committed to trying everything they could to find peace after all these years.”

Scott seemed to recover first, calmly asking, “Deaton you’re not honestly arranging a marriage between Derek Hale and Stiles, are you?”

“Well, obviously the marriage would have to be between two prominent members of your packs. As both Alpha's are attached, it seems logical to offer the Seconds as the next option. Of course if both sides accept it as a possibility we can negotiate how it would be handled but…first we need both of you to be willing to even discuss it.”

Stiles refused to look at Derek. His face was heating up, horror written across it as he stared from Scott to Deaton and back again.

“But it’s Stiles and Derek!” Kira blurted.

“You’re not suggesting I force my brother into a loveless marriage with a McCall,” Laura spat, her words dripping with disdain.

“I’ve said my piece,” Deaton responded. He stood from the head of the table, eyes wandering down to graze each side of the table. “I don’t want any answers now. Go home, discuss this among yourselves. But honestly think about this. We’ll meet back up in a month. This conflict has gone on long enough. It’s important that we consider ever option, the people I work for demand it. You must think long and hard about this.”

Laura Hale stood then, nodding towards Deaton. Her voice was calm though she looked angry, her fingers clenched tight into fists as her side. “We will. Thank you, Deaton.” She paused a moment, her jaw working for a moment before she looked at Scott. “Alpha McCall.”

Scott stood, nodding to her. “Alpha Hale.”

The other members from both sides of the table stood, silent. Stiles felt like someone had muted the world, but he imagined Scott was listening to surround sound of rapid heartbeats. He glanced at his Alpha, watching his best friend stand with a blank face as the Hales left.

Stiles followed his eyes to the Hales, studying each one as they left. Alpha Laura Hale, enraged by the suggesting. Peter Hale with a look of glee and cruelty. Erica Reyes, eyes narrowed towards them like she was waiting for someone to spring towards her. And finally, Derek Hale, the Alpha’s second.

He was the last out the door, meeting Stiles’ heavy gaze for a moment with a look Stiles couldn’t identify, and then he was gone.

“Scott,” Stiles started, turning to his best friend.

“Wait,” Scott said, taking in a deep breath. “Thank you, Deaton. We’ll see you next month.”

He turned to go without waiting for a reply, an even pace bringing him towards the door opposite of where the Hale’s had gone.

Stiles snapped his head around to turn to Lydia and Kira who both were staring at him. They exchanged looks, sort of bewildered panic for a moment, before taking off after their Alpha.

They made the journey in silence, an uncomfortable hike back to their territory as they left the neutral zone. Even Kira, who normally was skipping along by now, was held tight with tension as she trudged along beside her boyfriend. Lydia and Kira kept swapping looks, raising eyebrows in a silent conversation that Stiles didn’t even want to try to follow.

They hit the territory line and all sighed in unison, relaxing a bit to be inside the border.

A moment later and Scott whirled around to throw his hands up in the air. “Oh my God!”

Stiles rubbed his hands over his face. “I know.”

“I can’t believe it was even suggested! What are we—in the dark ages?” Scott walked backwards, looking at Stiles a he went. 

“I know.”

“An arranged marriage?” Scott shouted, eyes wide. “This is ridiculous! An arranged marriage between Stiles and _Derek Hale_?!? Is he crazy? Why would we even consider that?”

“We should.”

Scott and Stiles both turned to face Lydia, her face pulled in an apologetic grin.

“What?” Stiles demanded hysterically.

“You’re freaking out right now and not thinking with your head,” Lydia said. “Think about this for a moment. People have arranged marriages for hundreds of years for a reason. Because sometimes it works.”

“Lydia,” Stiles whined.

“If you weren’t so freaked right now you’d be way ahead of me.”

“You think a marriage between Stiles and _Derek Hale_ would work?” Scott demanded.

Lydia shrugged. “We don’t even know that the Hale’s would accept this either. But if _we_ say no then we can’t exactly claim we’ve been honestly doing everything in our power to resolve the issues between our two packs.”

“There’s a reason we’re at odds,” Scott spat, his face contorted in anger. “The Hales. This is ridiculous.”

“We need to consider this.”

“We? We!?” Stiles sputtered finally. “Lydia this is my life!”

Lydia’s face crumpled in regret, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that…Look, I’m not saying you should do it. Only that you should consider it. You are always saying how stupid this fighting is and how we should be doing all that we can to fix it.”

Stiles faltered. “But a _marriage?_ A fucking Moon Union Marriage can’t be broken, Lydia. I’d be connected with him for the rest of my life—someone who’d always hate me.”

Moon Unions connected people on a different level. You could read their emotions, no matter how far you went. Their well being was suddenly an urgency that came to you like instinct. There would always be a pull between them, so they could find each other, take care of each other--that was the idea anyway. The only way to break a Moon Union Marriage was through the death of one of the connected. Often times the one left behind went crazy and depressed.

Scott nodded furiously, waving his hands like Stiles was laying down the obvious law. “It’s nuts. We’re saying no.”

They began walking a bit faster. There was a long pause before Kira spoke.

“I mean, Derek Hale is really hot,” Kira supplied.

“Oh my God,” Scott whispered like he was in pain.

“He is,” Lydia agreed with a smirk. “Hot like burning. And kind of mean, which is definitely Stiles’ type.”

“He’s a _Hale,_ ” Scott scoffed.

“He’s the only person who’s ever really kept up with Stiles when he really gets going, talking about border options and neutral zone,” Kira said, tilting her head as she thought about it.

“And I mean, Deaton picked Stiles and Derek for a reason. No one wants an end to all the fighting as much as the two of them do.”

“No one fights as much as the two of them do,” Scott muttered.

Lydia and Kira ignored him, mischievously looking over at one another.

“Remember when Stiles brought up the Hale Pack baby and blessing…”

“Oh, God the man looked like he was going to grab him and have his way with him right there on the table!” Lydia crooned. 

"God, I bet that'd be good hate sex."

“Guys, stop!” Scott shouted, picking up his pace like he could outrun their words. “We already talked about this. It’s a terrible idea. I’m not making Stiles—”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Stiles sighed.

“What?” Scott yelped.

Kira stumbled, looking at Stiles with big eyes. “Oh, Stiles. We were only joking. You don’t have to do it. No one wants to force this on you.”

“Like Lydia said, we don’t know Laura Hale would even consider it,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I’ll think about it. I just—we’re not making any decisions here and now. We have a month before the next meeting. Let’s just drop it for now.”

“You don’t even have to consider it,” Scott said, pulling back to walk beside Stiles. “I don’t know what’s going through Deaton’s head, but giving up a chance for love…a family. That’s asking too much.”

Stiles bit his lip, staring down at the forest floor as they kept walking. Finally he huffed and looked upward towards the sky. “After all the people that have died through this pointless feud, no one wants more lives lost. But that’s what’s going to happen. It always does. Every time we reach a point of almost civil coexistence something happens. This isn’t a way to live, constantly at war.”

“It’s not your job to single handedly fix it all. We don’t even know if it would work. You could end up dead after a week with him.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. “I said I’d think about it. But honestly, Scotty, as much as I can’t stand Derek Hale, I think he hates all of this as much as I do.”

“You really willing to tell your father that he can forget about grandkids because you’re marrying the Hale Harbinger?” Scott asked, voice thick with disgust. “Can you actually face him and tell him that you’re going to do something so ridiculous after what happened with your mother?”

Stiles stopped walking abruptly, eyes blazing.

Scott faltered, a look of regret passing his face. “Oh, Stiles. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…that wasn’t okay.”

“No,” Stiles agreed, walking again, “it wasn’t.”

And that was the end of that.

 

* * *

 

 

**(2 Years Previous) July 9, 2013**

 

Tuesdays were Stiles’ favorite day of the week. It was the only day off that he had from being in his territory working, and he spent most of his day in the Neutral Zone in town. It was rare that a pack member from either side entered the town at all on the off chance that they ran into someone from the other pack and a fight broke out. But Stiles’ mother had been born in Beacon Hills, and he’d grown up in that town just as much as he did within the McCall Pack territory.

While everyone occasionally would go to the movie theater or the store in town, it wasn't common. They'd usually go to a town over for whatever they needed.  It was the only way to make sure the packs wouldn’t run into one another because a person could be stupid but groups of people could be reckless. People got hurt from carelessness and unnecessary conflicts in Beacon Hills.

Scott, and Stiles were the only Pack Members who didn't work outside of the Pack. Most members held a job in one of the surrounding towns. Stiles couldn't bring himself to stay away from Beacon Hills for long though. Stiles spent a great deal of time in the library and the little comic store in town, but mostly he enjoyed the little coffee shop. He’d been going there for years, enjoying the warm smells and environment.

Heather had Stiles’ friend for years when she told him she was putting her business degree to use and starting up a business all on her own. She was one of the few friends that Stiles had that wasn’t a part of his Pack. He’d been a loyal customer from the first day it opened, but he wasn’t the only one. Everyone loved that coffee shop. Though it was usually pretty empty while Stiles was there, mid morning to late afternoon on a Tuesday was usually a pretty slow time. 

It was painted with warm reds and oranges with quotes written in white script across the wall. There were 5 small tables and a big counter and lots of good coffee.

And that’s where it happened, that very first time. Everything changed that day, on the corner of Capulet and Montague in the quaint little coffee shop called Café Verona.

 Stiles didn’t look up when the door to the coffee shop opened, the little bells over the door frame giving a little jingle. He was busy buried in a book, his right hand wrapped around his coffee cup, absently bringing it up to his mouth to take a sip.

“Hey! I’m surprised to see you here today! You’re usually here on Wednesdays!” Heather said from behind the counter. “You looking for your usual?”

Heather owned and ran her coffee shop with success. Beacon Hills was a fairly large town and lots of people like Café Verona. Teenagers tended to hang out there after school, which is generally when Stiles would take off. But he’d end up there somewhere in the early morning to spend his day in the peace and quiet. Away from the fighting and responsibilities.

“Yes, please,” the customer replied, voice kind of shy. “Our schedules shifted around so I have rotation on Wednesdays. I’ve got a free Tuesday instead.”

Stiles froze, his arms slowly coming downwards to bring the book away from his face. He knew that voice. Surely though, it couldn’t be. But there he was, paying for a cup of coffee at the counter, far more relaxed then Stiles had ever seen him.

Stiles couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never run into a Hale while he was alone in town. This wasn’t just a Hale either, it was Derek Hale, Laura’s Second in command.

He was a good looking guy, dark hair and neat stubble. Derek was a mass of muscle and scowls in a leather jacket. But this was the most relaxed Stiles had ever seen him, too at ease with himself for Stiles to reconcile with the images of an angry, stiff individual who glared at Stiles every time he opened his mouth.

Derek took his coffee from Heather carefully, smiling gratefully at her as he turned to take his seat. He must have felt Stiles’ eyes on him though because his gaze fell over to corner seat Stiles had taken.

Derek stopped walking, and his eyes widened, flashing blue. Stiles had to take a deep breath to keep himself calm, trying to convince himself that they were not about to break into a fight here in Heather’s coffee shop. It was clear though, that Derek Hale recognized Stiles.

It wasn’t the first time the two had met in person, hell it wasn’t even the second or third but this was different. And Derek had a reputation at the McCall Pack. Derek was the Hales’ best fighter, all strength and speed. Back home they called him the _Hale Harbinger_ because no one survived a fight with him. Derek Hale wasn’t a leader like his sister and for the longest time Stiles thought of him as an attack dog, though it had nothing to do with being a werewolf.

Stiles couldn’t help but wonder what the Hales thought of him. What did they say about the magic boy who returned from college and became the Second? Did they tell tales of his mother dying the same way the McCalls talked about Talia Hale and most of her family?

Stiles stood with as much patience as he could muster. He made sure each movement was slow, leaving no room for panic. He carefully picked up his travel mug and book, taking a step back from the table. Not looking away from Derek’s eyes he yelled to Heather.

“Hey, Heather, I’m going to take off now, okay?”

His heart was going to bust out of his chest. It was thundering in his ears.

Heather seemed to have picked up the tension. Like everyone living in Beacon Hills she understood the dangers of the two packs and their feud. “Alright, Stiles. I’ll be seeing you. Say hi to your Dad for me.”

“Sure thing,” Stiles agreed, taking a step forward.

Derek’s body went rigid as Stiles stepped towards him, but Stiles refused to panic. His magic buzzed beneath his skin, answering his nerves. He offered an awkward smile, a curt nod and moved towards the door. His instincts told him not to turn his back on a Hale, but Stiles did. It took everything that he had to look away from the Hale werewolf and just walk out of his coffee shop.

“Holy fuck,” Stiles swore under his breath as he made his way along the sidewalk. He felt like his legs would give out from under him any second. Heather should have warned him that the Hale Second frequented her coffee shop.

 

Derek left only just after Stilinski, feeling wrong footed and uncertain. He’d forgotten about his coffee and it was practically lukewarm by the time he got back to Hale Territory. He sighed, dumping it down into the grass and shaking his head. The unexpected run-in with the McCall Second had Derek’s head spinning.

“Derek, you’re back early,” Cora said, walking up to him.

Derek grunted, rolling his eyes. “Where’s Boyd?”

“Hmm? Oh, I think he’s with Isaac and Erica right now. Scheduling the full moon rotation I think. They should be done soon. Isaac promised we’d go out Acredale this evening to catch a movie.”

Despite being married for a year Cora and Isaac still found time to go out when neither of them were needed by the Pack. It was cute, the way they acted around each other still. Not that Derek would tell them that.

Derek nodded. “Laura?”

“Right here,” came from behind him.

Derek swung around to find his other sister grinning at him, stalking closer. “What do you need, Dweeb?” she asked, slinging her arm around his neck. “I thought we agreed you’d do something fun on your days off. Not skulk around the territory.”

Derek pushed at her playfully, scowling. He thought about telling her about the coffee shop and Stilinski, but he didn’t see the point. “Who’s on patrol right now?”

“Braeden and Malia at the moment,” Laura answered dutifully.  

Derek nodded, eyes scanning around absently, checking over everything. “Well, I’ll probably head over to Acredale now and do some grocery shopping while I have the time.”

“You should wait for Peter to get back. I think he needed to go.”

Derek shook his head, giving Laura a look. “Yeah, because that’s how I want to spend my day off, shopping with Peter.”

Laura laughed, shrugging. “Alright, alright. Get out of here. Relax for a little while, Alpha’s orders."

 

* * *

 

 

**July 16, 2013**

“I didn’t know he was a Hale!” Heather protested, but her face showed regret and guilt. “Besides, he’s only ever shown up on Wednesdays! He’s a regular and he’s polite and—I didn’t know!”

“He isn’t just any Hale. He’s Derek Hale. How did you not know?”

Heather waved her arms around. “No offense, but Hales and McCalls die so quickly, rising and falling from power, that no one in Beacon Hills keeps track of that crap.”

Stiles took his coffee from her, frowning. “I know. It’s just dangerous, you know?”

“Of course I know! Everyone knows that.”

“Don’t worry about it. If it happens again I’ll just—”

Stiles cut himself off and spun around at the sound of the door opening and shutting. There was Derek Hale, eyes wide with panic and mouth open slightly. He looked at Stiles and ducked his head regretfully. He hesitated only a moment before reaching for the door again, looking to bolt.

“Wait!” Stiles called, causing Derek to pause in his movements just before he grasped the door handle.

He turned to look at Stiles with a sort of uncertainty and something close to daring.

“I—uh, sorry. It’s just that this place has like the world’s best coffee. I’ve been coming here for ages so I understand the addiction. But—I just mean that if you can handle being in the same room as me, I can handle it too. If we want to resolve all of this conflict, we gotta start somewhere, right? So if you…if you wanted to get your coffee and drink it here I’ll be in my corner. I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me.”

Derek stared at him like he was nuts. But he dropped his hand away from the door. “Okay.”

Stiles breathed out. “Okay.”

With the careful slowness again, Stiles walked his coffee to his usual seat and sat down. He picked up his book, pulled it to the correct page and tried to relax.

“Large latte, for here,” Derek said quietly with a stiff demeanor. “Please,” he added. He pointedly didn’t look towards Stiles.

Heather cleared her throat, her nerves showing. “Okay,” she said, “$3.95.”

It took Stiles several minutes before he could actually get himself to concentrate on his book, but he finally did. He leaned back, forgetting all about sharing his coffee shop with a Hale, and sank into his book.

When he got up to leave after a while, Derek was still there, as far away from Stiles’ table as he could get. Like the distance between them would negate the fact that they were in the same room like it was no big deal. But Stiles noticed Derek’s attention on him, watching him leave with a sort of weary suspicion that people like them always held now a days. They both knew this was a big deal.

Stiles refused to look over at him, just grabbed the door and pulled it open. “Bye, Heather! See you next Tuesday!”

“Bye, Stiles!”

 

* * *

 

 

**September 7, 2013**

Stiles didn’t know what to make of it. But it just kept happening. The two of them, enjoying their Tuesday mornings in the quiet, warmth of Café Verona. Heather would go to sit and chat with Stiles sometimes, but most of the time the place was completely silent, but for the soft crinkling sound when Stiles or Derek turned a page of the book they was currently reading.

Stiles didn’t mention it back in the McCall territory. He didn’t tell Scott or his father. A part of him knew he should, he should have mentioned the continual Tuesdays of Café Verona and Derek Hale. But this was a step in the right direction.

It was someone from the Hale Pack and someone from the McCall Pack just coexisting. It was proof that they could in fact share space without a fight breaking out. Stiles figured that they could prove that people from each pack could even talk and be civil to one another. Except that Derek and Stiles didn’t speak. They didn’t even look at one another. For the most part, Stiles ignored all things that were Derek Hale while in the Neutral Zone. Managed to forget about Hales being threats.

Of course, meetings at Deaton’s always reminded him what was at stake.

Deaton had a tall, round building just at the edge of the neutral zone. It was tucked there in the middle, safely standing between the two territories. Years ago, when people outside of the packs began to make noise about the fighting between them, Deaton was called in. He was a mediator and he was good at staying neutral.

Every three months the Alpha from both packs, their Second, and two other trusted pack mates traveled to Alan Deaton’s building. In a big, square room with a long, rectangular table the two pack were seated across from each other. Deaton sat at the head of the table, patience with them all dwindling in the past years.

Stiles hadn’t been going to the meetings very long. Scott’s father had died only a year ago. As his Second, Scott took the place as Alpha and named Stiles as his Second. Stiles was certain there would be an outcry from their pack, but no one questioned it. Everyone seemed to be content with Stiles in that seat of power.

Along with them they brought Kira—Scott’s wife, and Lydia Martin who was just down right terrifying when she wanted to be.

Laura Hale had been Alpha for the Hale Pack since her parents died a few years back. She named Derek as her Second and brought her uncle, Peter as well as Erica Reyes with her. 

While Stiles was impressed by the collection of people that they Hale Pack sent forth, they never seemed to find common ground. It was already high tension, everyone in the room already hating each other on pure principle. Every moment felt half a second away from a fight. Throw in the fact that they couldn’t agree on anything and it made for unproductive and short meetings.

“I don’t care if your magic can tell when someone crosses the border in either direction,” Derek said coldly. “You can’t just cross into our territory to retrieve some idiot going against orders and expect us not to attack you.”

“Why not?” Stiles demanded. “If the purpose of it is to help maintain some peace that lasts longer than a freaking week, why shouldn’t we?”

Despite the civil silence in the coffee shop. Stiles really did hate Derek Hale. While Laura and Peter both argued with logic and reasoning, Derek was prone to saying _because I said so_ and thinking that was enough. At least Erica didn’t pretend to think she was using logic when she said that.

“What, we’re supposed to trust one guy—a McCall, the Second in the McCall Pack, with maintaining watch over the borders?” Derek snapped.

“I’m not saying that!”

“No, you’re saying that it’s unreasonable for us not to trust you and your magic and just let you pass through our borders whenever you like but not treat you like a threat!”

Stiles frowned at the Hale Second, twitching in his seat. The man was all kinds of infuriating. “If one of our Pack members crosses the territory border and into yours, they’re still our responsibility.”

Derek barred his teeth. “And a threat to us. You want to stop idiots from attacking us? Stop them before they cross the border.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, rolling his eyes, “because the Hale Pack doesn’t attack with prejudice. You have total control on all your members at all times and have a grip on their long standing hatred.”

“Deaton,” Stiles demanded, “can you please weigh in here?”

Alan Deaton looked over at the Hales critically for a moment. He then turned back to Scott. “You have to consider it from their point of view, Alpha McCall. While Stiles raises a good point and excellent idea, it has flaws. The Hales can’t know that you’re coming to retrieve someone, they have to assume you’re attacking them. You’d do the same thing.”

Stiles sighed dramatically, trying to ignore the stupid smug look on Derek Hale’s face because Deaton sided with him.

“We don’t trust you,” Erica said, leaning forward to press her cheeks to the palms of her hands. “You don’t trust us. All for good reason.”

“We understand perfectly well that this whole situation isn’t _ideal_ ,” Kira said, shrugging. “You’ll have to forgive us if we don’t want countless people to die. We’ve got enough orphans as it is.”

“Yeah? And what happens when Stilinski here _thinks_ he felt someone cross the border. And then he “goes after them” and starts cutting throats?”

Stiles gaped at Derek. “What? Jesus Christ you fucking psycho! First of all, what the hell? Second, my magic is always right, it isn’t like I can’t tell.”

Derek sneered. “Sure.”

Stiles glowered. “I think you got more of a problem with magic then you do with me!”

Deaton tapped his fingers along the top of the table, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “I think we’re done for the day.”

“Oh, thank God,” Peter laughed.

As everyone was making their way to leave, Stiles found Derek glaring at him. Stiles narrowed his eyes at the werewolf, wondering how it was possible to hate someone so much.

 

* * *

 

 

**September 10, 2013**

Despite the hard looks and rough words, as the next Tuesday came Stiles found himself in Café Verona again, sharing the quiet with Derek Hale.

Stiles sat there with a crossword, tapping his pencil on the table rhythmically as he stared down at his puzzle.

“I think 23 down is Prometheus,” Heather supplied, leaning over his shoulder.

Stiles glanced down at the question and then at the little boxes. He nodded, scratching in the answer.

Heather moved away, going to wash down the counter. “So how’s Liam doing? You mentioned he was a bit grumpy.”

Stiles snorted, sipping from his coffee cup. “He’s moping. His best friend is going to college but Liam wants to stay on the territory. Scott’s been pressing to try to get him to go to school too, but that kid grew up to be a stubborn one.”

“You went to school,” Heather said thoughtfully. “You returned when you were done with school and you’re more helpful for it. Education is important.”

“Ehh, it isn’t for everyone. Scott didn’t go the college, and he’s the Alpha.”

Heather laughed, “But that’s why he’s got a bunch of smart people around him.”

Stiles grinned up at her, winking. "Well, Liam thinks there's enough of that. He wants to stay, help people."

"He's a kid," Heather sighed. "He ought to see what the rest of the world is like."

Stiles shook his head. "He doesn't want to listen to anyone."

"Sounds like someone else I know. Didn't Rafael McCall try to stop you from going to school?"

Stiles shrugged, before looking down at his paper. “What do you think? 8 letter word for an unknown person of growing oddity.”

There was a reply from across the coffee shop, low and hesitant. “Stranger.”

Stiles jumped, snapping his head up to look at Derek, eyes meeting and holding for a moment. Stiles blinked a few times, confused before he realized what the Hale had just said. Stiles cleared his throat, trying to offer what was supposed to be a smile but probably looked more like an uncomfortable grimace. “Thanks.”

Derek didn’t reply, but the silence was louder than anything. Stiles felt like he couldn’t move. He’d _forgotten_ the man was even there. How do you forget a cold-blooded killer is sharing your space?

Heather looked extremely uncomfortable, choosing to go clean the machinery silently instead of chatting longer. But after a short while it was comfortable again, like it’d never even happened.

But when Stiles checked the time and sighed, figuring he’d have to be going as it was nearly dinner time, he packed up his stuff. He threw his bag over his shoulder, and walked to the door. “See ya next week, Heather!” he called, pushing open the door.

And that moment held, like everything had frozen. Stiles eyes darted to the opposite corner of the room where Derek was sitting, staring at him.

“See ya, Derek,” Stiles said, his voice calm and even. He caught the way Derek’s eyes went wide and then he was taking off back towards home without waiting to see if the man would reply.

 

* * *

  

 

**August 1, 2015**

“It’s not funny,” Derek scowled at his uncle.

Peter just laughed harder. “You’re kidding me, right? Alan Deaton thinks that putting you and Stilinski together would solve all of our problems!”

“Shut up, Peter,” Laura growled, pacing.

“He really wants them to get a Moon Union Marriage?” Cora asked again, disbelief oozing off of her. “Did you punch him?”

“Of course I didn’t punch him,” Laura snapped, rolling her eyes. “Some of us have to be mature.”

Cora snorted. “You though?”

Erica waved her arms in the air. “I’m sorry, can we get back to the fact that Deaton wants Derek and the magic boy to hook up?” 

Derek groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Can we not?” Derek wanted to sink into the ground. He hated all of them. Everyone in the room was a terrible, terrible person. Almost everyone who was higher up in the pack was mocking him.          

Isaac patted him on the back awkwardly, offering a pained smile when Derek looked up to glare at him.

“What are we going to say?” Malia asked.

“We’re going to say no!” Laura said without ceasing the pacing.

“Yes,” Peter said at the same time.

“Excuse me?” Derek said, raising his eyebrows at his uncle.

Laura stopped, turning to frown at Peter. She put her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. “Peter stop teasing Derek. I’m not letting him marry a McCall, especially not the Alpha’s best friend.”

Peter dropped down from his perch on the edge of the table so that he was standing. He shrugged. “I’m not kidding. I think Derek should say yes.”

“Why’s that?” Erica questioned. “From what you guys have said this kid drives Derek up the wall. The two of them couldn’t go five minutes without killing each other.”

Peter sighed, leaning up against the wall to study Derek. His nephew looked like he was somewhere between wanting to punch a hole in the wall and wanting to scream. “Derek will say yes, won’t you?”

Derek dropped his head back down into his hands. “Not if Laura doesn’t want me to.”

Laura walked over to Derek, her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? You hate that guy. You say as much every time we leave that place.”

Peter answered for him. “It isn’t about the boy. It’s about everyone else. What do you imagine will happen if the McCall’s agree to this, but we don’t?”

Laura’s lips thinned, her face hardening. “Shit.”

Peter cackled, leaning forward to ruffle Derek’s hair, laughing harder again when Derek batted his hands away with a murderous look.

“I don’t get it,” Isaac admitted.

“Look at it this way,” Peter said. “If the McCall Pack agrees to this then they can go to the people and say ‘hey, we tried and they wouldn’t make an effort.’ What happens when the town’s people decide one side is more at fault then the other?”

“So either way we have to agree,” Laura sighed. “If McCall refuses then _we_ get the upper hand. But if he agrees then I’m treating my brother like some sort of prized pig. Wonderful.”

“Derek understands,” Peter shrugged.

“We’re not really considering this,” Erica said, eyes filled with horror.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Derek sighed, lifting his head up. “We just have to kind of hope that McCall refuses.”

“He won’t,” Erica groaned, flinging herself forward to wrap her arms around Derek. “I hate to admit it, but that Stilinski kid isn’t exactly an idiot, is he? He’s going to have thought this through, too.”

Laura stood in front of Derek, her arms crossed over his chest. “Derek you don’t have to agree to this. One word, and we can think of something else.”

Derek shook his head. “C’mon. You’ve been playing this game long enough. If this can end it, I’ll suck it up and deal with the crazy kid. Every chance to fix this, we gotta take it.”

Laura gave him a sad smile. “I don’t understand why Deaton would suggest this. He knew we’d both have to agree to it, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be willing to put people in this kind of situation.”

Derek shrugged, letting Laura share Erica in hugging him.

“I mean, at least he’s cute, right?” Erica whispered against Derek’s shoulder.  

 

* * *

  

 

**October 22, 2013**

Stiles was running behind. After a late night he’d opted to sleep in that morning, getting to the coffee shop a little later than usual. By the time he arrived, Derek Hale was already there, standing in line to get coffee from Heather.

He had a book tucked under his arm. An Agatha Christie novel, by the look of it. Derek turned to look at Stiles when he came in, but turned back around quickly to wait for Heather to make his coffee.

Stiles stood there in the doorway for a long moment, unsure if he should go to sit down or just wait. After considering he stepped up behind Derek, patiently waiting for Heather to finish up with him.

“I love Agatha Christie,” Stiles blurted because he was an idiot and couldn’t manage to keep his mouth shut.

Derek turned around, blinking at Stiles in confusion before nodding with realization. “Oh,” he muttered, lifting the book slightly. “Yeah, it—it’s pretty good. I like mysteries.”

“I started with _And Then There Were None_ which really freaked me out,” Stiles confessed, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot and then the next. “I didn’t sleep for like a week.”

“Here you go, Derek,” Heather slid a coffee across the counter.

“Thanks,” Derek gave her a relaxed grin, and then turned back to Stiles. He hesitated a second, like he might just turn and walk away. But instead he steeled himself, keeping his face blank. “You bring a book today?”

“Nope,” Stiles shook his head, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. He handed money over to Heather who set about to make his usual. “Today I brought sudokus and my laptop. Thought I might catch up on some of my shows.” He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder for emphasis.

“You watch a lot of TV?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes like he didn’t really believe it.

“Not so much anymore,” Stiles admitted. “I did when I was in college. Decided to spend weekends binge-watching shows. There are a few I keep up with still.”

Derek nodded.

“Here you go, Stiles,” Heather said with a small voice, eyes darting between the two of them like she was staring at a fragile moment in time.

They both jerked back, like Heather had shouted. Stiles’ mind crashed, unable to fathom the fact that he’d just been making small talk with Derek Hale.

“Thanks, Heather,” Stiles replied, taking his coffee cup from her. When he turned back around Derek was already making his way to his far corner.

 

* * *

 

 

**November 5, 2013**

“Oh my God is that…do you _knit?_ ” Stiles gaped as he watched Derek enter with knitting needles in hand.

Startled, Derek spun to face Stiles, his cheeks going pink. “I—it’s not—I don’t—” Clearly flustered, Derek looked somewhere in between _kicked puppy_ and d _ear Jesus kill me now_.

“That’s awesome!” Stiles continued, ignoring the stuttering embarrassment Derek was fighting. “My mother used to knit all the time but…it’s harder than it looks. I kept messing up the counting until I admitted defeat with a lopsided, really awkward looking scarf.” He stood up from his table, nearing the corner Derek was retreating to. “What are you making?”

Derek eyed Stiles suspiciously, going rigid as he neared. “A hat. For Laura. Her birthday is coming up and…that's what she said she wanted.” He lowered his eyes, clutching knitting needles in tight fists.

“That’s nice of you,” Stiles declared, maintaining a comfortable distance. “What color?”

Derek’s eyes shot back up to Stiles, like he was trying to figure out if he was making fun of him or not. Slowly he turned to his bag and pulled out yarn. Two colors were produced, a bright pink and a black.

“Huh,” Stiles mused, “I didn’t really figure her for a pink kind of girl. But I like the colors. I think they’ll look good together.”

Derek snorted. “Laura likes every color ever.”

“Makes for a more colorful life,” Stiles nodded sagely.

“Coffee, Stiles,” Heather called, presenting Stiles’ third cup on the counter.

Stiles beamed over at her, moving away from Derek to retrieve his coffee and then return to his usual corner.

Derek eyed him for a moment with a contemplative expression.

 

* * *

 

 

**November 12, 2013**

They both got the message at the same time, phones buzzing in the middle of the afternoon. One look at their phones and the two of them were bolting up from opposite ends of the coffee shop, feet bringing them to the door with a hurried frenzy.

Derek pulled open the door and Stiles followed him out. Neither looked at the other, both sprinting for the end of the neutral zone. And then they reached it, both tensing as they reached it.

Stiles took a deep breath, turning towards his own territory and running to find his Pack and deal with whatever had happened. “Be safe,” he muttered under his breath, but Derek was a werewolf, and Stiles was sure that he’d heard him.

Stiles pulled magic from the ground as he ran, picking up speed that was inhuman. He could match the speed of a werewolf, but only maintain it for a short time. He reached his Pack housings as fast as he could, eyes searching.

“Stiles!” Danny shouted, waving an arm.

Stiles bolted forward, eyes widened in question.

“Some idiot kids decided to start something from the Hale’s. They crossed over the border and found Liam and Mason and some of the others.”

“What’s the damage?” Stiles demanded, nervously running a hand through his hair.

“Your dad and Scott broke up the fight. But…Jane Sawyer’s son Brian…he’s hurt pretty bad. They don’t know if he’s going to make it. Everyone else has minor injuries.”

Stiles swallowed hard, shuddering a bit. “Fuck,” he swore. “What about the kids that crossed over?”

“We chased them out,” John informed him, walking up from behind him. “A couple of them got hurt pretty bad but no casualties on their end.”

“Any news on Brian?”

John’s face twisted into sadness. “It doesn’t look good, kid. You might want to make a visit.”

Stiles felt like someone had tied weights to his shoes. Fights were a way of life between the two packs. The feud was far older than any living person and it stretched through the generations. But today was Tuesday and Stiles wasn’t on the territory. He couldn’t monitor the border and he’d been away from all of it.

Coming back to this was a cold bucket of ice he wasn’t prepared for.

“Okay,” Stiles whispered, nodding. He made his way towards the infirmary. No one followed him.

He reached the doors to find Scott and Melissa.

Scott looked up with a sad look. “Hey,” he greeted weakly.

“Brian Sawyer?” Stiles prompted, looking at Scott’s mother.

She shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll get much longer.”

Stiles licked his lips instead of biting them. “Scott, you working with Lydia? We gotta contain this before some people start building up revenge ideas.”

Scott nodded, turning towards the exit.

 Stiles pushed past them to find the room. He heard the sobbing before he entered, finding Jane Sawyer in a chair beside the bed just staring at her son.

She looked up when Stiles entered and her face crumpled further. “Stiles,” she whispered, “tell me you’re here because you can help my son.”

Stiles ignored her, sitting on Brian’s opposite side. Brian didn’t speak, just followed Stiles with his eyes. He looked bad. Scratches from wolves were visible down along his chest and scraping his throat. One of his eyes was swollen shut and the other had a large gash over it. His left leg was bent in a bad angle. Brian’s breathing was hard and labored.

“Hey, Brian,” Stiles whispered, reaching forward. He took his hand in his own and offered a sad smile. “Scott already come and take your pain?”

Brian blinked once with a slow manor and Stiles took that as confirmation. “I’m so sorry, kid. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no,” Jane chanted, her tears coming faster and hard sobs escaping her.

Stiles looked up at her slowly. “You need to say goodbye, Jane.”

“No,” she hollered, standing so quickly that the chair shot backwards, hitting the wall. “I have lost both my parents, my sister, my husband. Do not ask me to say g-goodb-bye to my s-son. N-not-t Brian. Not my B-Brian.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered, clasping both his hands around Brian’s. He looked back at Brian. “It won’t hurt at all, I promise. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

There was a light of recognition in Brian’s eyes. A watery, painful looking smile pulled at his lips. But then he looked at his mother. “s’kay, Mom. Love you.”

Jane’s arms shot out to grip his arm, her eyes still pouring tears but her attention and energy going to smiling at him. “I love you too, Brian. I love you so very much. I—you were so brave. Like you’re Dad.”

Brian’s grin grew then, but fell quickly. He looked back over at Stiles. “Th’n you.” A bit of blood dribbled down from his mouth and leaked along the curve of his cheek.

Stiles gave him a nod. “Goodbye, Brian.” Stiles shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. His magic twist and turned, jolting through Stiles. It was a complicated piece of magic to perform, but he’d done more times than he’d like to admit.

“My boy,” Jane whispered, and then louder. “My son. God, my son! Fuck them! Fuck them all! I hate the Hales. I hate every last one of them. They’re monsters. They took my boy!”

Stiles reopened his eyes to look at the hysterical mother. He refused to look back at the still body of Brian Sawyer. “Do you have it?” he whispered.

She was breathing heavily again, hate and anger written on her face like she was engraving it. But she dug into her pocket to pull something out, thrusting it over to Stiles.

It was a class ring, class of 2006. A ring that Brian Sawyer had gotten when he had graduated from High School, so proud. He joked all the time that he was from the class of “fuck off, we made it.”

Stiles took the ring in his hand and let the magic seep into it, breathing out slowly. He shivered, clutching it tightly. Memories washed over him, vivid and happy. A smiling Brian Sawyer telling Stiles about this car he wanted to get. His face so friendly, so open.

Stiles dropped the ring into Jane’s open palm. He stood and walked away, ignoring the hard sob that escaped her as the magic of the ring hit her.

He’d made so many of those over the past few years. Putting happy memories of people into objects. Something to keep the memory alive because too many people around here died too damn young.

“You okay?” Melissa asked, watching Stiles leaving.

_I hate the Hales. I hate every last one of them. They’re monsters._

The words echoed in Stiles’ ears but he couldn’t share the sentiment. He felt nothing at all.

He shrugged. “I gotta go see what needs doing.”

There was always something that needed done after this sort of thing.

 

* * *

 

 

**November 19, 2013**

“I’m sorry for your lose,” Derek murmured as he looked at Stiles. He turned away then to find his seat.

“Me too,” Stiles replied, gripping his book tighter.  

 

* * *

 

 

**December 7, 2013**

“Because they’ve listened to their parents! They’ve grown up with the understanding that they’re supposed to _hate_ each other,” Scott argued.

“You can’t just throw them all in a room, tell them to play nice and hope for the best,” Lydia agreed.

Derek scrunched up his face. “If we start getting them to understand and accept each other while they’re young—”

“You’re going to end up with kids fighting. They’re going to be mean and brutal and it’ll get ugly,” Stiles stated plainly.

“They’re kids!”

“No, they’re kids from _Packs_ and they know to hate each other like they learned their ABCs.”

“So we start now, showing them that has to change.”

“This isn’t the right way to go about it,” Stiles shook his head. “You’re saying kids should be able to do what the grownups can’t even do. Maybe if we were talking one or two kids interacting from each pack it would be different. But when you’re putting a bunch of them together it is welcoming them to team up Pack on Pack.”

“You’re just be difficult,” Derek all but shouted.

“No,” Stiles said coldly, “I’m thinking rationally. Just because you can’t be bothered, or just don’t have the capacity to do it doesn’t mean you can be angry at me for it.”

“Watch it, Stilinski,” Laura warned.

 

* * *

 

 

**January 14, 2014**

“Why did you decide to have the promotion on a Tuesday?” Stiles whined.

Heather grinned, grabbing another cup to make coffee. It was during a school break so a lot of kids were there, coming for the promotion Heather was running for half-priced coffee.

“You knew about it before hand,” Heather reminded him. “You could have, and usually would have, skipped out and done something else. Now why is it, I wonder, that you were so determined to come in today?”

Stiles glared at her smug face. “I hate you.”

“Love you too,” she announced just as Derek walked in.

Derek looked around and sighed, taking in all the bodies. Despite the fact that the coffee shop was still fairly quiet it was really busy. All of the tables had someone sitting at them and there wasn’t really anywhere for him to set up shop. He looked a bit defeated, turning around as if he might leave.

“Hey!” Stiles called, kicking out the chair across from him at the table he’d secured. “Have a seat.”

Derek blinked at him in surprise and then his eyes narrowed. He stared at Stiles and his open-seat invitation for a moment before slowly making his way over. “You’re sure?”

Stiles tilted his head up, looking at Derek. “Yes.”

Derek set down his book at the table, sinking into the chair instead of getting into line. “Why do you come here?”

“Because I don’t’ want my life to be completely made up of people I care about fighting and dying over stupid things.”

Derek sighed. “Yeah.” A beat. He cleared his throat.

Stiles stared at him a moment, studying him.

Derek squirmed in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the silence between them. “Did you see the new Avengers movie?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**January 21, 2014**

Stiles didn’t even look up when Derek came in, just smiled behind his book when the other man pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

 

* * *

 

 

**February 18, 2014**

“I’ve known Stiles since were little kids,” Heather said, not releasing the coffee cup even as Derek went to take it.

Derek looked up at her in surprise, eyes going sharp. “Okay…”

“I’m a Beacon Hills kid, we know better to take sides in your stupid Pack wars. That’s how you get hurt—get killed. But if you hurt him, if you were trying to manipulate him or trick him I would take a side, you know?”

Derek’s eyes widened. “I’m not—there isn’t—did he say I…I’d never do that.” He stopped. He looked away and then looked back up. “Do you want me to go?”

She pressed the cup more firmly into his hands, smiling kindly. “No. I just was curious, you know? You used to come in every once in a while and only stay for an hour or so. Now you’re here regularly nearly all day on Tuesdays.”

Derek’s cheeks went pink, his gaze sliding down to the counter.

“I thought it was because you were trying to get something from him. But it’s not is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Derek quickly.

“Hey, he’s a cute guy. I just…I don’t want you to get hurt either, you know?”

Derek’s head snapped back up. “I’m not—he isn’t—it isn’t like that.”

Heather shrugged, looking over Derek’s shoulder to where Stiles was busy reading. “It really sucks about the whole Hale and McCall Pack Wars because the two of you would make a cute couple.”

Derek couldn’t seem to find the words to say he quickly spun around and walked away. He sat down heavily in his now-usual seat across from Stiles with a scowl.

“Hey!” Stiles greeted, setting down his book. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about ‘group think’ and I found a really interesting article.”

Derek's face pulled into a reluctant grin, holding his hand out for Stiles to place the stack of papers. "Okay."

This wasn't meant to have become what it was. He was comfortable around Stiles. They constantly argued. But it was  _fun_ to argue with him.

"No," Stiles groaned, making a face at Derek. "You're wrong! Clearly you lack the refined taste that I have developed."

Derek muffled his chuckle, shaking his head. "Video games are a waste of time!"

Stiles maturely shoved his hands over his ears. "Stop it, Derek! You're stupidity might be contagious!" But he was smiling, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. His eyes widened a moment later when he saw the time. "Oh, shit. I gotta go. I promised Scott we'd do a taco dinner and I haven't gone to the store yet."

Derek snorted in amusement as Stiles quickly tried to collect his stuff, fumbling with things in his hands. "I'll see you next week," Derek said.

Stiles grinned. "It's a date." And then to the counter. "See ya, Heather!"

"Bye, Stiles!"

Derek just sat there, eyes staring off after the McCall Second.

 

* * *

 

 

**September 5, 2015**

Scott shifted in his seat, uncomfortable there in a way he hadn’t been before this day. He looked at Alpha Hale and then her Second before looking back at Stiles.

Stiles loved his best friend, he really did. Even a moment away and Scott was still looking for reassurance. Like if Stiles gave even the slightest notion that he was uncomfortable with what was happening then Scott was back out right then. But Stiles merely nodded, trying to calm the shaking of his hands.

Scott cleared his throat and looked back to Alan Deaton. “The McCall Pack accepts the effort for mediation in the Moon Union Marriage between McCall Pack Second, Stiles Stilinski and Hale Pack Second, Derek Hale.”

Deaton’s lips gave a slight quirk of a smile, nodding to Scott. He turned then to Laura Hale, his eyebrows raising expectantly.

Laura didn’t look away, her lips pursed tightly and her eyes narrowed. “The Hale Pack also accepts the suggestion for the Moon Union Marriage between Derek and Stiles. Provided that the negotiations go smoothly.”

Deaton looked delighted, clapping his hands together and pulling out papers from a folder. “Excellent. We’ll need to get things sorted as soon as we can. These things take time but I imagine that…oh, three months from now we shall have the Union?”

“We have some conditions before we move forward,” Lydia proclaimed, straightening her own papers.

“What a coincidence,” Peter said with a smirk, picking up a pen. “So do we.”

Erica groaned, smacking her head on the table. “Why is everyone here so damn dramatic?”

Deaton turned to Lydia. “Well, what’s the first item on your list of concerns?”

“Where they’ll be living, of course,” Lydia answered with an eye roll. “While the McCall Pack is reluctant to welcome a Hale on to its lands, it would willing to accept Derek Hale provided that he was with Stiles whenever he left his home to wonder our territory.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Laura snapped. “I’m not sending my brother to live with you. If this is to happen than Stilinski can suck it up and move in to our territory, accepting the same conditions.”

“We are not—” Kira started in a loud, outraged voice.

But Deaton cut her off, looking back and forth between Derek and Stiles. “How would you feel about building a house right down the middle of the territory border? I realize it’s a bit far from the buildings of both your Packs, but it’s a bit more neutral.”

Stiles rolled his shoulders back, glancing at Derek and then back at Deaton. “If Derek and I both agreed to enter each other’s territory accompanied by the other, or with another of the Pack when approved by the Alpha.”

Derek nodded stiffly, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I hadn’t thought about…moving out of my apartment but…it does make the most sense, right? We’re not trying to make this a gain for either of the Packs. It’s supposed to make negotiations and communication easier right?”

“As long as Scott doesn’t have a problem with it?” Stiles said, glancing Scott.

Scott looked like someone had ripped the floor out from under him. “That’s so far from…I don’t think I trust Stiles’ safety alone with a Hale.”

“Scott,” Stiles snapped softly, giving him a stern look. “I can handle myself. Besides, if I’m going to be…married to the guy I should probably place a little trust in him, right?”

Scott exhaled roughly when he looked over at Lydia and Kira and found no support. “Okay, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Accepted,” Alpha Hale nodded too.

“Then there’s the matter of the actual Union,” Peter said, looking all too comfortable and pleased with everyone else’s discomfort.

The negotiations went on and on and they talked about so many things heatedly, even when Stiles couldn’t have cared less. He honestly didn’t mind if Derek had visitors over, as long as they were announced beforehand. He didn’t think Derek would care too much about Stiles having anyone either.

But both sides argued and argued, deciding that anyone outside of the Alphas couldn’t visit without alerting both members of the household and both Alphas prior to the visit.

The whole thing was making Stiles head spin.

Hours passed, and then it was well into the evening. Everyone was hungry and tired and frustrated with the whole thing.

“It sounds like we’re making progress,” Deaton said, “but why don’t we pick up again in 2 weeks? Everyone can recollect and determine what else needs to be decided.”

Both Alphas nodded in relief.

Everyone got up to stand, both Alpha’s doing their usual stare off.

“Why don’t we let the two Seconds have a moment alone?” Deaton suggested, eyeing both the Alphas.

Laura Hale opened her mouth to protest. “I don’t—”

“Laura I’m going to be marrying the man in a couple months,” Derek said harshly. “I think I can handle a couple minutes.”

Laura blinked back her surprise but then nodded. “Okay, you’re right. We’ll be just outside when you’re done. Just a few minutes.”

Scott looked to Stiles to make sure he was okay and turned to go at Stiles’ nod.

Both Pack’s left their opposite doorways leaving Deaton, Derek and Stiles alone in the sound proof room with the doors shut.

Derek and Stiles stood stiffly from opposite ends of the room, looking at Deaton.

“Well, I did like I promised,” Alan said with a grin. He looked at his watch and then back up again. “You have probably five minutes before the Alphas start getting antsy.” And then he too was gone, leaving just the two Seconds alone in the room.

The moment the door shut, Derek vaulted over the table, reaching towards Stiles. His eyes flashed, hands taking hold of Stiles’ shoulders and roughly pushing him up against the wall with a low growl.

Stiles let out a grunt of surprise but then grinned up at his—huh, fiancé. “Missed you too,” he managed to mutter before Derek was ducking down to kiss him.

Despite the feral growl and tight, desperate grip, Derek’s kiss was soft and deep. He sank against Stiles like the weight of the world was leaving his shoulders. He moved in closer, lining his body up against Stiles until they were chest to chest.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, pulling back a little. “It’s okay.”

“It’s been months,” Derek snarled, pushing closer again. “I hate it.”

Stiles stared at him a moment, face softening as he smiled. “I know. I hate it too.”

And then they’re kissing again, both pulling at one another to get closer, express all the pent up feelings from the past months since they’d been able to see each other last.

Stiles reached up blindly, one hand sinking into Derek’s hair and the other cradling his cheek.

Derek moaned, his lips traveling down to Stiles’ neck, licking at the skin there and breathing in his scent. “I don’t ever want to be away from you that long again.”

"You've been okay though, right?" Stiles questioned, hangs running over Derek's chest and down his sides. 

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles in a hug, pressing even closer. "I'm fine. Just missing you."

Stiles squeezed back in the hug, nodding awkwardly with his head pressed against Derek's shoulder. "Missed you too, Der. Not much longer. Just a little bit more and...God, Derek and then its forever.""

"Stiles," Derek whispered, his voice dipping vulnerably for a moment, "What if something goes wrong?"

"We can't think like that," Stiles answered, shutting his eyes as tight as they would go. "This will work. We're getting married, Derek. Smile for me. You're supposed to be happy." 

Stiles pulled away then to see the smile on Derek's face, a small but genuine look so filled with hope that Stiles' eyes stung, threatening to tear up.

"I love you," Derek told him, ducking down for one more kiss.

"I love you too," Stiles answered, pulling away then, clenching his hands in fists.


	2. By Any Other Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Thank you to everyone who left me a comment! You guys made me feel confident enough to post the second chapter, so here it is!

 

**October 3, 2015**

Derek decided that this was probably the most painful thing on the entire planet. The two packs had fought and fought over who exactly was going to be building the house and where on the border line they would be set up. They finally agreed to contract an independent party neither pack had worked with before and build the house right smack dab in the middle. The problem now, was the actual house itself.

The man in charge of the building was a big man with a short beard and arms covered in tattoos. His name was Mark McKinley and he looked like he was going to throttle someone, but he didn’t say a word. Smart maybe, because getting between Laura and Alpha McCall was asking to die.

Both Alpha’s were the picture of perfection seated on either side of the territory border, Seconds beside them. There were mere yards between them, but it was hilarious really, the way various members of each pack stood behind their Alpha’s, glaring and growling.

Deaton had thought that meeting outside of his building might be a challenge they could meet. Derek wasn’t so sure.

Mark had the notes in hand, staring down at them on his little fordable table. “I’m sorry, have we decided on how many bedrooms we need?”

“Four,” Scott said harshly but then looking to Laura to check that she was also agreeing to that.

“Two main bedrooms and two guest bedrooms,” Laura said smoothly with a nod.

Derek shook his head. “No, I’m confused. Why exactly are there going to be _two_ main bedrooms?”

Laura looked at him like he was an idiot. “One for you, and one for Second Stilinski.”

Derek finally looked toward Stiles, which he hadn’t done says the nonsense had started. Stiles looked confused, then angry, then determined. He looked back towards the Mark. “Just one main bedroom should suit, and two guest rooms.”

“Stiles,” Scott McCall said, voice somewhere between a warning and a question.

Stiles turned to look at Scott and the turned all the way around so that he could see the rest of the McCall pack members who had assembled behind him. Then he turned back around to face Mark once more.

“The house is for me and my _husband._ And we only need one main bedroom, thank you. Unless Derek disagrees.”

Laura puffed up. “Of course he fucking—”

“One main bedroom will be fine,” Derek cut over her, the first time he’d ever done so in front of someone who wasn’t pack. He didn’t look at her through, he was looking at Mark who suddenly looked exceedingly uncomfortable. “Stilinski and I agreed when you left at Deatons. If we’re doing this we’re going to do it. No point in pretending to be married and living together like it’s a prison. Either we’re doing this or we’re not. And we already agreed to do it.”

Derek and Stiles both blushed a bit, Stiles staring at the ground and Derek just looking straight forward.

The silence that followed as that sank in was pretty satisfying.

“You’re going to kill him after an hour on your own,” Laura whispered just soft enough for Derek to hear.

Derek snorted, a smile twitching at his lips. “I’ve got more self-control than you do. I give it two hours.”

Laura rolled her eyes but nodded. “Whatever. What’s next?”

“Stiles needs an office,” Scott said coolly. “He has work he does and he needs the space.”

Derek noticed the way Stiles’ eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. Laura didn’t. “Well, Derek works out regularly so he’ll need a room for that.”

He really didn’t need a room for it.

“They’ll need a big kitchen,” Lydia kept going. “Stiles likes to cook. Helps relieve stress, and I figure there’s a lot of that coming.”

Laura clenched her jaw. “A big bathroom and large bathtub. Derek takes long baths for his muscles.”

Derek looked at his sister sideways. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a bath. He must have been a small kid.

“Stiles needs a window seat,” Scott interjected loudly. “He likes to read by with sunlight, even in the winter.”

Derek sighed to himself. He wasn’t quite sure why he thought this would be anything but what it had become. He couldn’t even look at Stiles much, other than fleeting glances, but he knew Stiles must have been aggravated too.

“How do you feel about porches?”

“What?” Laura asked, her brows dipping in confusion.

But Stiles was looking directly at Derek. “I was thinking maybe a porch in the front, a small stoop. What do you think?”

Derek shook his head, sneering a bit. “Expecting a lot of trick or treaters, Stilinski?”

Stiles smirked, shaking his head. “Why not? But mostly I like the idea of outdoor chairs there.”

Derek smiled. “I could live with a porch.”

“Good,” Stiles nodded, and then turning to Mark. “Would that be easy enough?”

Mark blinked over in surprise but nodded, looking around cautiously.

“I don’t really need a room for working out,” Derek said finally. “I like to run and lift so there isn’t much equipment that I keep. I just need a small space.”

“I don’t need a whole office. We could have my desk on one side and your weights on the other. And we could put up shelves around the room for all of our books. I have a lot of books.”

Derek nodded. “Okay. And instead of a large bathtub…maybe a big shower?”

Stiles leered, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically. “Just big enough for two?”

Derek felt his cheeks heat up. Laura was shaking slightly next to him, suppressing a laugh. Peter didn’t even try to hide his snicker. Derek scowled, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring back at Stiles’ suggestive wink.

There was a pause. “Big shower,” Mark repeated, writing it down slowly.

“Good,” Stiles grinned slightly and then glared around. “Any objections to Derek and I make our own decisions for our house? No? Fantastic.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

  **March 11, 2014**

“What on earth are you doing?” Stiles asked, sitting his chair with an incredulous look on his face.

Derek barely looked up. He pulled out the other coloring book and set of crayons, and he slid them across the table. He then resumed coloring in his picture of Spiderman.

Stiles stared at him a moment and then he was opening the crayons and flipping through the Tangled coloring book to find a picture he liked.

 

* * *

 

 

 

  **April 1, 2014**

“More knitting!” Stiles crooned happily, watching Derek take the needles and yarn out of his bag. “Another hat today?”

Derek shifted in his seat, a soft green yarn in hand. “Actually—uh, I’m making little baby booties. Like tiny shoes?”

“Oh,” Stiles said slowly, a weird look on his face. He paused a moment, uncertain. “It isn’t—you’re not…”

Derek’s cheeks colored, his eyes widening. “No! No, it’s for my sister!” he blurted, wincing as the words came out.

Stiles’ jaw dropped. “Laura is pregnant?”

“What? No!” Derek shook his head. “Cora is…err—her baby is due in four and a half months.”

Stiles shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t know she was pregnant! That’s so cute!” He frowned. “Which she probably doesn’t want any McCall Pack members knowing. But I won’t say anything!”

Derek shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “She’s only telling people now since she’s showing quite a bit. She was wearing big sweatshirts for a while.” He looked sad then, eyeing the start of his knitting and taking a slow sip of coffee. “Mostly everyone is nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

“She’s a werewolf and so is Isaac. You have to know that werewolf babies don’t survive most of the time. They’ll grow up to survive everything—but they don’t start that way. It’s dangerous. There’s a really good chance that….that the baby won’t make it.”

Stiles looked startled. “Well, yeah but if you have a magic user bless the pregnancy there is a much better chance. It isn’t complicated or anything. Dangerous werewolf pregnancies are a thing of the past.”

Derek slumped a bit in his seat. “We don’t have a magic user in our pack. And no magic user outside of us would be willing to help us because then it’s almost like declaring allegiance and getting mixed up in all of this stupid pack war crap.”

“Well I’ll do it!” Stiles said hysterically. “No one wants a little baby to die!”

Derek gave him a sad look. “You really think anyone in my pack would trust you to do that?”

He bit his lip. “Well what about Deaton? I doubt he’d have a problem with it!”

Derek shook his head. “We can’t ask Deaton because he’s the mediator. If he did it for us then it would be like he was taking a side. He’s not allowed to do that. And we definitely can’t ask.”

Stiles reached out to put his hand over Derek’s comfortingly. “I’m so sorry. Do you know what the odds are?”

“There’s a 25% survival rate,” Derek said sadly. “I mean Cora should be alright regardless, but I don’t know how well she’d take losing that baby.”

Stiles nodded sympathetically.

Derek took a deep breath and gave a crooked smile. “So, anyway, I’m knitting her baby booties.”

“I like the green.”

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

  **April 15, 2014**

“Mmmm,” Stiles hummed happily. Fresh, still-warm muffins were the best. “Want some?” 

Derek was staring at him intensely. He jolted, blinking a couple times before looking at Stiles’ outstretched hand. “No thanks.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **May 13, 2014**  

It wasn’t fair. There should have been certain rules of the universe that disallowed a few things. The universe absolutely shouldn’t have let Derek Hale look like that in a sweater. He was already drop dead gorgeous, but the usual clothes were dark and kind of intimidating. Here was Derek, coffee cup in one hand and a Harry Potter book in the other, seated at their table in a warm, over-sized sweater.

“Hey!” Stiles said trying to sound casual but his voice went up a little high. “You’re here early.”

Derek gave him a lazy smile in return, closing his book. “Oh, yeah I was up all night working on some plans for the Pack. I just came right here when it opened.”

Stiles gave him a sympathetic smile. He’d pulled his fair share of all-nighters with Scott. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep now?”

Derek shrugged. “I didn’t have a way to tell you I wasn’t going to be here and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I wouldn’t have worried,” Stiles protested, but he winced. “Okay I would have been a little worried. But you can’t blame me! With our lives! I think I should be allowed to worry about my friends.”

Derek straightened at that, before going very still. His eyes focused on Stiles with a scrutiny that made Stiles play his words over in his head. _Oh._

Stiles wanted to suck the words back in. He couldn’t be friends with a Hale, especially not Derek Hale. This, sharing the coffee shop was one thing, acting civil. But friendship was a mutual understanding that you actually _cared_ about one another.

Derek’s eyes softened as the seconds passed. “Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Okay.”

Derek cleared his throat, looking mildly uncomfortable. “When fights break out, which happens more times then we’d like them too, you always get there as soon as you can.”

Stiles nodded. “Well, yeah? I don’t want my Pack mates to die.”

Derek gave a weak smile and nod. “Right, no, it’s just that I’ve noticed something about you; about your magic. You make barriers, your weird magic shields, and you break fights up and push people back but….I’ve never seen you actually fight. I’ve never even seen you directly hurt someone from my pack. You don’t seem to carry any weapons either.”

Stiles inhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back. His exhale was loud and quick as he stared up at the ceiling. He looked back at Derek with an awkward look. “Yeah. I don’t fight.”

Derek had his suspicious but having the truth laid out was weird. “Why? I don’t understand. Your mother was killed by—”

“I know that,” Stiles hissed loudly, his face scrunching in anger for a second. He ducked his head a moment later, like he was embarrassed. “Believe me, Derek. I know how my mother died.”

“Sorry. It’s just that you’ve lost something so important to you because of my pack. Doesn’t that—don’t you want revenge?”

“My mother was from Beacon Hills, a teacher in the neutral zone. Even after she married into the McCall Pack she was a big advocate for peace talks. That was before Deaton came. But Rafael wouldn’t hear it, he was so angry all the time. She always said the fighting was pointless, a circle of pain.

“After she died the only thing I could think about was what would happen if I got angry at the person who killed her. I thought I was supposed to get angry at the Hale Pack, to hate them all and want them dead, but the truth was I never got angry at your pack. I got angry at the whole war. I was angry at my own Pack, and the Hale Pack. I was mad at everyone. So I graduated, packed up, and went to college. I’d visit from time to time, come see my dad, but I wasn’t involved in all of this.”

Derek stared at him, a kind of awe on his face. “What happened? Why’d you come back?”

“Rafael McCall died. And Scott called. He was to be the Alpha, and he wanted to end the war. A mediator was coming at the request of town’s people and Scott was willing to hear what he had to say. For the first time, what my mom wanted seemed possible. So I came home.”

Derek hung his head, clenching his fist. “You’re a really strong person, you know that? When my parents died I was so set on revenge. I wanted to kill every last McCall. I threw myself into training. My Pack said I was a hero, but I soon learned that I didn’t feel like one. I’m just tired. I want the fighting to be over.”

“Sometimes I don’t think it’ll ever happen,” Stiles confided. “Our packs can’t see eye to eye, and even outside of negotiations everyone hates each other.”

Derek shrugged. “And yet, here we are.”

Stiles looked up at Derek as he smiled into his coffee cup.  

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 **June 1, 2014**  

Deaton closed his eyes like he couldn’t even bare to look at them anymore. “Are we done for today then?”

“Yes,” Laura said with a deep sigh, glaring at the table after another wonderful couple hours with the Hale and McCall Pack not quite being able to work through anything.

Scott opened his mouth to agree but Stiles broke across. “Actually, there was one more thing I’d like to bring up.”

Opening his eyes, Deaton looked at Stiles with a tired expression. “Very well, what is it?”

Stiles took a deep breath, ignoring Scott beside him. “I would like to place a protection spell upon my person like I’ve done for many members of my pack. A simple, good health and well-being spell that just helps slightly for humans. It isn’t complicated or anything.”

Scott’s furrowed brows rose as he seemed to get some sort of understanding. “Oh, yeah that makes sense. Like you did for your Dad.”

“Why do we care?” Derek demanded, raising an eyebrow. “Stilinski, no one cares what you do with your stupid magic.”

Peter was the one who answered. “You can’t do magic to yourself like that. It doesn’t work.”

“Oh,” Erica replied, tilting her head sideways. “Well then what the hell?”

“Well I’d like to ask Deaton to do it for me,” Stiles said simply, shrugging.

“What?” Laura demanded, outraged. “Absolutely not. The agreement was that Alan Deaton would act merely as a mediator. He isn’t meant to meddle in pack affairs, even something like that.”

Stiles nodded, “No I know. That’s why I was bringing it up. I thought there was a way we could balance things out for both of us.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “So, what? Deaton does it for you and one of us? We don’t want it.”

Stiles glared at Derek, rolling his eyes short after. “Don’t be so stupid, Hale. I know werewolves don’t need it. And nearly everyone in your pack is a werewolf.”

Derek snarled, his eyes flashing and fangs dropping, but he didn’t move from his seat. “So what are you proposing, exactly?”

Stiles stared back, unamused. “Isn’t Cora Hale pregnant? Survival rates for werewolf babies aren’t so good.”

Everyone on the Hale Pack’s side stiffened then, going tense and uncertain.

Stiles continued. “I’m just suggesting that if Deaton can perform the spell on me then he could also bless the pregnancy. Wouldn’t that be fair?” He spoke with a nonchalance that seemed so natural. Like he didn’t care.

“That—” Laura looked like she wasn’t sure if she should snarl or cry. “Is this a deal the McCall Pack is presenting right now?” Her voice was hard, but quiet.

Scott looked bewildered, looking over at Stiles questioningly.

“Yes,” Stiles said with a calm, serious tone as he stared at his best friend.

Scott raised an eyebrow and then nodded. “If Stiles thinks it’s important than I suppose. We present the deal I guess.”

“Deal,” Derek said quickly, not even bothering to look at Laura. “We accept.” His voice came out desperate and choked. He was staring at Stiles though, his eyes just burning into the boy with a look that made Stiles squirm a bit.

Deaton looked from one pack to the other and then nodded. “Well I suppose I don’t have a problem with it as long as the Packs are in agreement. It’s almost refreshing really, to see you two come to a decision so quickly. Very well. Second Stilinski I would be happy to perform whatever spell you give me before you go. Likewise, Alpha Hale, if your sister were to come in this evening I would be happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Laura said, looking at Deaton. But Stiles couldn’t help but think she meant it for the McCall Pack as well, even if her pride wouldn’t let her.

They broke apart soon after, Stiles staying behind a moment with Deaton.

“Here,” Stiles handed him a copy of the spell. “It’s honestly one of the simplest things I’ve got.”

Alan Deaton took the paper in his hands, glancing down along the spell, muttering to himself a nodding. “You realize of course that my magic isn’t nearly as strong as yours.”

Stiles waved him off. “Hardly anyone can match my raw magic draw, but I can’t do the spell on myself. I really appreciate you doing it.”

Deaton shrugged. “Sure. I don’t mind. I just have a question.”

“Hmm?”

Deaton tapped the paper. “Why do you want it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s basically a health promoting spell and a quick reflex spell but it’ll hardly do anything to you at all. Perhaps someone older like your father could benefit from a spell like this, but you’re a mage in his prime.”

Stiles twitched nervously. “Gotta take all the help you can get now a days.”

“It’s curious that you knew that the Hale’s were in desperate need for a spell themselves.”

“I’m tricky like that.”

Deaton hummed softly, looking down at the paper again. “You’re a good person, Stiles. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Stiles cleared his throat, looking away.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **July 20, 2014**  

“What happened?” Derek asked, pulling Laura’s arm around his own shoulder to help her. He thought of all the things that were horrible about the fighting, the worse thing was the waiting. The worst thing was having to wait behind to make sure those who weren’t running to the action were safe, it was staying home and waiting. Waiting to hear who was hurt. Who was dying. Who was dead.

Laura was stumbling a bit, a bit of blood on her but no visible wounds. Her leg had obviously broken and then quickly healed in an odd way they’ll have to fix. But she looked murderous, eyes still a glowing red and her fangs still bared.

Derek figured he should be thankful that at least she was alive, if nothing else he knew that his Alpha was okay.

“At the territory border. I don’t know who started it.”

Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat. After all this time you’d think it wouldn’t affect you so much. But it did. “Casualties?”

“I don’t know yet,” Laura answered quickly, shaking slightly in his grasp as they continued to the medical building. “No, no take me to the Center.”

“Laura we have to deal with your leg,” Derek warned. He hated that too, when people were hurt, when people ought to get themselves checked over by someone, how they wouldn’t do it. He no less than anyone else.

She rolled her eyes. “No shit. But I don’t need to be in the medical building for that, do I? You can do it. Come on. I need to hear reports.” She looked at him a moment and the hope that maybe this time no one was hurt, maybe this time it was okay—it was gone. “I know we didn’t get out of there cleanly, Derek. It was a bad one.”

“I should have been there.”

“We needed you here.” Someone always stayed behind. The possibility was prearranged, scheduled in advanced with what ifs.

Derek growled softly but didn’t argue.

They got to the Center. It was a large building right in the center of their territory where they’d set up. It was where Laura and Derek worked out of. Where requests were filed. Announcements were made. And then casualties counted.

Derek hulled her up into her chair at the main desk, turning the chair around to face him. “On three, okay?”

She bared her teeth and nodded.

“One,” he said slowly, “two.” He snapped the leg into a correct position without warning. Laura letting out nothing more than a hiss as he did. Her eyes went bright red before they squeezed shut.

She shook her head, breathing heavy before nodding towards the door. “C’mon. Let them in.”

Peter, who had been there waiting for them, threw open the doors quickly. Ten or so pack members step inside. They were all covered in blood, drained and tired.

Of them, Erica looked the most battered. A litter of cuts above her eyes were still healing, blood still wet where it’d been dripping.

“Report,” Laura demanded.

“Three dead,” Boyd announced with a bitter spitting. “Sounds like Casey Leo was taken out by a sword to the stomach. That fox bitch got her. We don’t know what happened, but it looks like Wester was shot a few times.”

“The last one?” Laura urged.

Boyd paused a moment. “Jamie Barnes.”

Laura exhaled heavily, sinking down into her chair. “How?”

“Laura—” Derek tried to interrupt. Jamie was Laura’s best friend. The two had been inseparable. They knew you weren’t supposed to ask _how_ when it was like that. But Laura was Alpha.

“How?” Laura repeated but it didn’t sound as harsh and authoritative as she had tried to make it.

Boyd shook his head. “Neck’s snapped. Probably one of the wolves.”

Laura nodded, her eyes falling downward for a moment before she straightened. “Okay. Okay, what’s the damage otherwise?”

“Malia’s at the medical building right now. Her torso’s slashed up pretty bad.”

“Not healing?” Peter demanded, looking like he was ready to sprint.

“Alpha wounds,” Isaac offered.

Peter turned his attention to Laura, like he was pleading. It was like he was vibrating in place, needing to go. To find his daughter.

“Go,” Laura nodded to him and watched him run off. Her attention as back to the pack. “Make sure everyone is checked over, especially any human pack members. Isaac, you make sure my sister knows you’re back. And then everyone get some fucking sleep.”

Everyone filed out, looking worn and weary. The smell of blood and grief was so common on their territory but tonight it clogged Derek’s nose more than usual.

“Laura,” he said softly, turning to look at her, reaching out his hand to rest on her shoulder.

His Alpha stood straight and strong, her head held high. And then she crumpled sideways, knocking into him.

He caught hold of Laura, pulling her into his arms and holding tight as she sobbed.

“Jamie,” she said, the name coming out stuttered and mangled as Laura spoke into his shoulder with a wet face. “How do I fix this, Derek? What can I do to make this all stop?”

Derek could only hold her tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Laura. I’m so sorry.” His own eyes watered slightly, grief filling his stomach.

He’d known Jamie for years. He’d known so many people who had now become tomb stones. Derek couldn’t help but think of their parents as Laura cried into his chest.

Everyone died. But this time it wasn’t Laura or Cora or Peter or Malia. Not Isaac or Boyd or Erica. This time. Every loss in his pack was like a sharp pain, a loss that cut deep, but he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost more family—his blood family or his make-shift family.

And then a cold curl filled Derek’s stomach as he thought about it. There was someone whose well-being wasn’t something he could know about.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**July 21, 2014**

“You can’t save everyone,” John told him, letting Stiles pull him into a tight hug. “Even when you are on the scene, trying to protect everyone is too much.”

“I hate this,” Stiles said, gripping tighter. “Mom always said it would keep going if no one did anything. Even with all of the talks I feel like nothing is coming out of it.”

John pulled back to look at his kid. “Your mother would be so proud of you for all the work you’re putting into the peace talks. You’re doing your best kid.”

Stiles sat down on the sofa, sighing softly. “It’s not enough.”

“You can’t expect all of this to end from the will of one person,” John said, sitting in the chair opposite. “It’s late. You should be calling it a night. You’re welcome to crash here.”

Stiles rubbed at his face. “Nah, I better get some more stuff done before tomorrow. I’ll go in a few minutes. But you make sure to keep an eye on that arm of yours.”

His father rolled his eyes. “Its fine, Stiles. Barely a scratch. You on the other hand look like you’re going to collapse.”

“I feel like it.”

John smiled softly. “At least tomorrow is Tuesday, right? You’ll be going to Heather’s.”

Stiles smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah.”

John studied his son a moment. He leaned back, tilting his head at Stiles and biting a big grin. “Is there something going on between you and Heather?”

Stiles looked up quickly, raising an eyebrow. “What? No! Heather is one of my best friends. That would be so weird.”

“I don’t know,” John shrugged. “It’s just that lately you’ve been in such a good mood when you come back from Verona, and I want you to be happy.”

Stiles shook his head. “There’s nothing going on between Heather and I, Dad.”

John narrowed his eyes at him. “Is there someone else?”

Stiles jumped up from his spot on the sofa, adjusting his shirt. “I better be going. I want to get all the reports organized before tomorrow so that Lydia can take them when she gets back from her work.”

John stood to trail after Stiles to the door, standing in the doorway as Stiles made to go to his jeep. When Stiles turned back around, face scrunched up like a kid, John smiled. “There is someone, huh?”

Stiles rested one hand on the door to his jeep, his face softening. “I don’t know. Sort of. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t like that.”

John smirked, shaking his head. “Sure. It wasn’t like that with your mother either.”

Stiles scowled, getting into his jeep and driving back to his apartment.

* * *

 

 

 

**July 22, 2014**

To say Stiles was stressed was an understatement. Tuesday came slowly, creeping up at a pace that didn’t match the work load. People were furious after the last fight. He had to be in meeting after meeting, helping people in the infirmary building, helping schedule extra patrols, actually going on extra patrols. 

Of course, there were also the funerals. Stiles had worn his funeral suit more times the last few years than he’d like to admit. There was only one death this time, and it was of an older man who’d lost too many already. He’d have wanted to go down fighting. But Scott was okay, his Dad was okay. Stiles was okay. For now.

Finally, as the morning came, Stiles booked it off the territory as fast as he could. Hitting the neutral territory was like being back at school, a sense of freedom. It didn’t hurt that he knew there was a warm cup of coffee and good company waiting for him.

Stiles never made it to Café Verona.

It hadn’t occurred to him that, while he knew Derek’s schedule and was certain Derek hadn’t been at the fight, Derek couldn’t have known Stiles was okay. And even if it had occurred to him, he probably would have convinced himself that Derek wasn’t worried. 

He would have been wrong.

Stiles was nearly there, enjoying his quiet, morning stroll. And then a pair of hands grabbed him and hulled him into the alley way. Stiles’ magic perked up immediately, readying to throw his attacker backwards. Stiles stared up at the man, magic ready to flare. Yet, while the face was shifted with glowing blue eyes, it was a face that was familiar.

“Derek?”

Derek pressed Stiles firmly to the wall, his grip unrelenting as he invaded Stiles’ space. He was shaking just slightly, or maybe that was Stiles, or both of them. Stiles couldn’t tell. All he could focus on was the warm weight that pressed into him.

“I thought maybe you—I didn’t have a way to find out,” Derek whispered between fangs, “if you were alright.”

Stiles tension seeped away and his arms came upwards. He wrapped his fingers around Derek’s wrists where he was holding Stiles by his shoulders to the wall. “Hey, I’m okay,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.

Derek looked up finally, meeting Stiles gaze with a sad, relieved look. “You’re okay.” He repeated the words like they were holding him together.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, his thumbs rubbing circles beneath Derek’s palms. “I didn’t know you’d be worried or I’d have found some way to—”

Derek shuddered, his face melting back to his usual, human form. “Of course I was worried. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt. My instincts were going crazy since the fight. I just wanted to find you and make sure you were okay.”

He released Stiles, letting the other man push off the dirty, alley wall. But Derek’s head ducked downward to hover between Stiles’ neck and shoulder, his arms resting on Stiles’ neck.

“Your instincts?” Stiles questioned. But he couldn’t think, not when Derek’s grip was burning into his hip bones.

Derek shrugged, his face heating up. “Sorry.” His shoulders came upwards. He breathed in, taking Stiles scent in and continued to try to calm himself down.

“Hey, hey no,” Stiles protested, reaching his arms so that one of them rested on Derek’s chest and the other rested just behind his neck. “Look at me?”

Carefully, with a slow movement, Derek did as he was asked. His breathing hitched audibly as he stared at Stiles’ brown eyes.

They stood like that a moment, a warmth settling in the air.

“Can I kiss you?” Stiles asked softly, his eyes trailing between Derek’s eyes and his lips. Derek looked so vulnerable, so young like this.

“Yes,” Derek agreed in an equally quiet tone.

They moved at the same time, a perfectly complimentary series of movements that brought them closer—so dangerously close.

Eyes met, one last check for hesitance, and then eyelids slid down to close. Lips touched, a barely-there graze. A soft gasp—who knows whose it was. They stilled a moment, sharing warm air between them.

Stiles shifted just slightly, pressing into Derek and letting the werewolf take some of weight. He dipped forward firmly, pulled back slightly and then pressed forward again. Small, chaste kisses that lasted longer and longer until Derek’s grip moved to his back and held him there.

The kiss turned into something warm and wet and slow. It was dizzying, exhilarating. It picked up speed but didn’t turn harsh. Stiles licked into Derek’s mouth, mapping dip and curves and tracking shudders.

Derek pulled away first, his eyes still shut and his grip still tight. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, shaking his head and then resting it against Stiles’ forehead.

“Please don’t stop,” Stiles said.

Derek let out a little whine. And then they were kissing again.

Stiles couldn’t think. Not really. He knew they shouldn’t be doing this but—fuck, when was the last time he felt right in his own skin? Standing there, with Derek’s arm around him and with his lips softly kissing his own, the world felt okay. Like it wasn’t falling apart. Like it wasn’t being held together by sheer stubbornness alone.

“Stiles?” Derek questioned, his hand coming up to Stiles cheekbone to brush his thumb along his face.

Oh. He was crying. How stupid.

“Shut up,” Stiles said, placing his hand over Derek’s and turning his cheek into Derek’s palm. He could have this moment, take if selfishly as his own.

Very slowly then, Stiles backed up away from Derek until his back hit the wall again. “What the hell are we doing?”

“You kissed me,” Derek reminded, going defensive. “And we’ve been skirting around this for months. You can’t tell me you don’t want me.”

Stiles grimaced, looking away. “You’re the one with the wolfy instincts telling you to tear down the world to make sure I’m okay.”

Derek turned his back on Stiles, his posture going hunched. “So, what? This is funny to you? A game?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Stiles snapped, wiping roughly at his eyes. “Don’t pretend like this is actually an option. Don’t act like if I wanted to I could keep you.” He didn’t mean for his voice to crack at the end, but it did. And that’s what made Derek look back at him, all scared and vulnerable.

“I’m tired of pretending that I don’t love you.”

Stiles felt like someone had smashed a brick to his head. This was too much, too ridiculous. Here he was, in the alleyway between Café Verona and the drug store with Derek Hale, the fucking Hale Harbinger declaring his love.

“Don’t say that,” Stiles said, meaning to sound stern but ending up sounding more pleading than anything. “Why would you say that?”

Derek looked down at his hands a moment, like Stiles’ words were insulting and hurtful. Or like he was ashamed.

“That’s not fair,” Stiles said, shaking his head and shutting his eyes tightly. “You’re really not fair with your stupid arguing strategies and your unidentifiable eye color and your fucking knitting! And you’re funny. You weren’t supposed to be funny.” He opened his eyes again to level a look at Derek. “It isn’t fair because I love you too, and it’ll never really matter.”

“Stiles,” Derek breathed out, like he wanted to fight the words. He didn’t deny the truth Stiles is spitting though, he didn’t try to convince Stiles that their Packs would understand. He just nodded slowly. “We can’t meet here anymore, can we?” He stepped father away.

Stiles meant to scoff but it sounded more like a sob. “No, we really shouldn’t.”

“I’ll talk to Laura about switching my scheduling rotation.”

“Okay.”

Stiles watched him go, telling himself it was necessary. He watched Derek jam his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and disappear from sight.

Only then did Stiles exhale, magic like smoke curls flying from him and scorching the walls of the building—a testament to heartbreak.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**October 21, 2015**

“Are we making invitations?” Stiles asked.

“What?” Erica looked at him like he was an idiot. “Why the hell would we need invitations? It’s  the McCall Pack, the Hale Pack and Deaton.”

Stiles shrugged. “Well I guess I can just invite her in person, but if we were making them I’d want to send one to her.”

Erica and Cora both stared at Stiles from the opposite side of Deaton’s table. Beside him, Lydia kicked his leg beneath the table. “What are you talking about?” Lydia asked.

“You want to invite someone outside of the Pack?” Kira questioned.

“What the hell?” Cora exclaimed. “No!”

Stiles gave her an unimpressed look. “It’s my wedding, and I can invite anyone I like.”

“You really think inviting one of your college friends is a good idea?” Lydia asked softly, uncertain in the way she wasn’t sure what Stiles was getting at.

Stiles ignored them all. He looked at Derek instead. “There’s a friend of mine in town. Her name is Heather, and I’d like to invite her to the wedding. If you had anyone you’d like to invite other than that, I wouldn’t mind. But if you don’t have a problem with it, I’d really appreciate her being there.”

The corners of Derek’s lips twitched upwards in such a slight way that if Stiles hadn’t been staring, he’d have missed it.

Derek shrugged. “I don’t see why you’d want her there, but I don’t care. Invite her if you really want.” But his jaw clenched dramatically.

Stiles nodded, looking back to the notes Lydia and Kira had written out about flowers and colors and food.

“It’s really creepy seeing the two of you trying to get along,” Erica announced. “You’re really not fooling anyway.”

Very slowly, Kira nodded, eyes wide. “You’d almost think it hadn’t caused Derek physical pain to accept Stiles wanting a friend at his own wedding.”

Cora narrowed her eyes. “Well it isn’t like Stilinski’s request was fucking normal.”

“Watch it, Hale,” Lydia said, looking like she were ready to spring. “We wouldn’t want to start an incident because you have even less anger management control than your brother.”

“A for effort,” Deaton said with an eye roll from where he’d been silent at the end of the table. “I can’t believe I thought this might be smoother without the Alphas. Can we get back to the cake?”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **August 11, 2014**  

A week passed, and then another. Heather and Derek barely spoke. They shared looks though, long, sad, understanding looks.

“I hate this,” Heather whispered, sitting down across from him in the otherwise empty coffee shop. Maybe it would have been better if Derek stopped going altogether, but he couldn’t get himself to.

Mondays, his new days off, were lonely. His coffee didn’t taste like anything.

Derek cleared his throat, hands clutching together nervously. “There’s this outdoor theater in Bellton that is showing old slasher movies at 7 tomorrow,” he said slowly, eyes on the table, “I thought I might go. By myself.”

Heather nodded, not really paying attention. “Sounds like fun.” She looked up then, like she realized something and then sort of shrank into herself. “I’d offer to go with you, but I have to—”

Derek looked up to shake his head at her, cutting her off. “No, that’s fine. I’ll go by myself. Alone. Without anyone from my pack.” He stared at her, watching her eyes for any sort of understanding.

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, a look of hesitant uncertainty stretching across her face before she sat back. Heather’s mouth fell open a bit, her eyes widening. “Oh. Sure. There’s nothing wrong with going to movies by yourself.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, picking up his coffee cup.

* * *

 

 

 **August 12, 2014**  

He wouldn’t come. Of this, Derek was certain. The ghost feeling of Stiles still lingered on his lips but he convinced himself it was a dream. A good dream, a nice dream, but still a dream.

All this time Derek had moaned over the fact that Stiles was a McCall. He swore that maybe if he hadn’t been, and Derek hadn’t been a Hale then maybe they could have been something. Maybe the two of them could have fit together like intricate puzzle pieces and the cold that rested in Derek’s chest—that hole in his heart, would stop being a gaping wound and become someone else’s home.

But even then, all history and family aside, why should Stiles want Derek?  Where Derek had grown cold to the world from war and loss, Stiles had grown strong and tall. Stiles was educated and brilliant with aspirations for change. Derek’s wolf screamed for _mate_ and Derek’s brain wanted a friend and Derek’s heart just wanted Stiles.

His pack, his family, would hate him if they knew. And for some reason, that doesn’t matter.

The soft knock on the window made him jump, his head turning quickly and his claws popping out by instinct. But there was Stiles, awkward smile on his face and a bowl of popcorn in hand, presenting it like it held answers.

Carefully, Derek got out of his car, fighting the giant grin that forced its way onto his face anyway. “You came. I didn’t think you would.” He looked Stiles up and down, noting the nice shirt and pair of jeans. “You look nice.”

Through the dark Derek could see the blush on Stiles’ cheeks as he looked to the ground, smiling in answer to Derek’s. “I never say no to a good movie. And I’ve never been to a drive-in.” He looked up at Derek through his lashes, a sort of shy version of Stiles that Derek had never met before. “To be honest, I almost didn’t come. I was a bit afraid.”

Derek tilted his head to the side. “Afraid of what? Of me?”

“No!...yes?” Stiles cringed. “I—I’ve been missing you like crazy, Derek. But I have no idea what we’re doing.”

“Well, right now,” Derek said, reaching boldly for Stiles’ hand, “we’re on a date. And while I haven’t gone on one in a while, from what I remember, you try to have some fun.”

Stiles’ smile got a bit bigger, his eyes darting to their interlocked hands and then up to Derek’s face. “Okay. Just a regular date.”

The ended up in the bed of the pickup truck Derek had driven, his father’s old red Ford. Derek had brought blankets and pillows with, and they arranged them to lean back to watch the movie. They sat like that, side by side but not touching. It was awkward at first, the few words they exchanged a bit stunted and uncertain, and it was like they’d forgotten how to act around one another.

Stiles got a bit twitchy, his eyes focused on the movie ahead, but his legs bouncing and his heart rate a bit erratic. Finally he began to shift, slowly maneuvering so that he was squished up next to Derek.

Derek sort of froze, not quite sure what to do and worried about doing something wrong. But Stiles simply grabbed his arm and pulled it around himself, pressing himself into Derek’s side before turning his attention back to the movie.

Both of them remained stiff and nervous for a long moment until Derek curled his arm around Stiles tighter and kissed the top of his head.

“I’ve been missing you too.”

Stiles tilted his head up slightly, looking Derek in the eyes. “I’ve been interrogating Heather every Tuesday, trying to figure out how you were. She said you were pining.”

“I might have been a bit unhappy with how we left things,” Derek admitted. “But I also couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.” Derek looked away from Stiles, eyes sliding sideways though he didn’t move away.

“Just kissing me?” Stiles asked, lips sliding into a mischievous smirk. He tilted his head slightly and slotted their lips together.

They didn’t pay attention to the movies after that. Both men kept stealing kisses in the middle of conversations about anything and everything. But it didn’t get any more heated than that. They just stayed there, huddled together in the truck as a few movies played one right after the other.

“It’s getting late,” Derek whispered.

Stiles frowned, pushing himself against Derek more firmly.

Derek chuckled, wrapping both arms around him. “The drive home is a bit long, and you’ve got early patrols.”

“Don’t care,” Stiles insisted, his face squished to Derek’s chest. “I want to stay here forever.”

Derek couldn’t argue with that. “You should put my number in your phone.”

Stiles jerked away at that, turning around to stare at Derek, face blank. “You said we shouldn’t do that months ago. That it was risky.”

Derek shrugged. “It is risky. But honestly, at this point, I don’t care anymore. You’re worth risks.”

Slowly, Stiles pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket to hand over. “Derek, you know that as long as our Packs are like this…we can’t ever be together.”

Derek typed his number in quickly, putting _D_ in the contact spot. He looked at Stiles then with a tight smile. “Another motivator to get to peace, right? Until then, we’ll just stay like this. Just you and me.”

Stiles accepted his phone back, staring down at it before sending Derek a blank text. And then he looked up with a sort of awe on his face. “What if our Packs never get along?” Stiles whispered.

Derek leaned forward, rubbing his nose against Stiles’ but he didn’t say anything. What was there to say?

* * *

 

 

 **December 6, 2014**  

“What?” Laura demanded, her face pulled in a snarl. “What the hell makes you think we’d be comfortable with you bringing in outside mages to your territory? Absolutely not.”

Stiles frowned at her. “It isn’t like I want to use them to fight. They’re looking for someone to shadow with defensive magic. There isn’t anyone in the world who has the magic resource and defensive experience that I do. It would only be for a month or so.”

“Do you think we’re stupid?”  Derek asked, glaring at Stiles. “We don’t know what tricks you have up your sleeve. If you want to teach little mages, get out of Beacon Hills.”

“I’m not leaving, that’s out of the question,” Stiles stated with a scathing look. “This is a good compromise! They just want to watch!”

“We don’t know them and we don’t trust them,” Derek declared. “And if you thought otherwise then you’re an idiot.”

“To be fair to Second Stilinski,” Deaton said, “most mages with his power would have had apprentices by now. Most feel that he owes it to the magic community because of how powerful he is.”

“I hardly see how that is our problem,” Peter said coolly. “Stilinski will just have to choose what obligation is stronger, that to his Pack or to the magic community. I can’t say we really care what he chooses.”

“But he won’t be bringing more psycho magic users to Beacon Hills,” Derek finished.

“You got something against magic users, Hale?” Scott asked with a low growl.

“I don’t know,” Derek said. “It might just be Stilinski that I can’t stand.”

Stiles pushed back from the table, eyes locked on Derek Hale. “God, you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Enough!” Deaton shouted, his voice loud and stern but his body remaining still and calm. “I will not have this sort of talk in here.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?” Erica questioned in a mocking tone.

Deaton stared at her until she sank in her chair sheepishly. Then he looked around and sighed. “Alright, that’s it for today.”

Stiles eyes tracked Derek Hale with a murderous glare until he was out of sight.

“Hey,” Scott bumped into him as they began their journey home, “don’t let them get to you. We knew it was a long shot.”

Stile nodded. “I knew it was a long shot but I don’t see why they have to be such douche bags.”

“Derek Hale really does seem to have it out for you,” Kira agreed, grabbing Scott’s hand to hold the rest of the way.

Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket.

 **What the hell was that?** he sent to Derek quickly.

_You’re unfairly attractive when you’re angry._

**Asshole**

_< 3_

Stiles scowled at his phone.

“Who are you texting?” Lydia asked, craning over his shoulder to look.

“Heather,” Stiles said quickly.

“Your friend with the coffee shop?”

“Yeah. She’s adding to the menu.”

Lydia nodded absently. “I should stop in. I haven’t been in town in ages.”

Stiles smiled at her. “Well it isn’t like you have a whole lot of free time between the firm and the pack. Not to mention how needy your boyfriend is. Jackson really needs a hobby.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lydia said with a smile. “One day off a week? The occasional night out and that’s it? How have you not gone crazy with our lives?”

Stiles shrugged. “Magic.”

Lydia snorted, shaking her head at him. “Dork.”

* * *

 

 

 

 **January 20, 2015**  

“No!” Stiles cried, wiggling away as Derek began to tickle him. He squirmed out of the werewolf’s hold and took off running, laughing loudly as he went.

There was a soft howl from Derek and when Stiles looked behind him, Derek was completely shifted, taking off after him.

Stiles squeaked, running faster and heading towards the playground in the park. He skidded across wood chips and darted behind the see-saw to face Derek. “Damn, you’re fast.”

Derek shifted back to his human form, smirking at Stiles. “Surrender now and I shall be merciful.”

“Never!” Stiles screeched, darting forward with a cackle.

But Derek was faster, catching him around the waist before he could make it to the swings and tackling him to the ground. Derek tucked around him and rolled them over so that Derek was straddling him in the middle of the playground. “Caught you.”

Stiles stared up at him, beaming like a mad man. “You did.”

Derek dipped downwards, giving Stiles a long kiss before making his way down his neck, mouthing at his collarbone. “I’m not letting you go.”

Stiles let out a moan, fingers scratching lightly at Derek’s back. “Don’t start something in the middle of the playground.”

Laughing, Derek pulled back, extending a hand to help Stiles up with him. He tugged Stiles towards the swings and they sat side by side there, enjoying the cool night.

“Do a trick,” Derek prompted.

Stiles stuck out his tongue. “It’s magic, not tricks.”

Derek waved him off, grinning at the old argument. “C’mon. Show me something pretty.”

Stiles tilted his head to the side and returned Derek’s smile with wave. Suddenly the world around them seemed to dissolve. The swings beneath them remained but everything else faded into soft, white sand and salty waters.

Derek’s jaw dropped slightly. He stared around in amazement, taking a short sniff to find that it did indeed smell lightly of the sea. “Wow,” he breathed out, still ever amazed by Stiles’ abilities. “I’ve always wanted to go to the ocean.”

“You live in California and you’ve never been to the ocean?” Stiles questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I hardly ever leave the Hale Pack territory,” Derek explained, still looking around. He pushed his toes into the sand beneath him and let out a little whoop he found it soft between his toes, just like he imagined. “This is amazing Stiles,” he said, looking over at the other man.

But Stiles was staring at him, like Derek was the thing to be amazed at. “Run away with me.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Blinking, Stiles clapped his hands together. “Yeah, lets run away together, Derek. We’ll go live in a cottage by the sea.”

Derek shook his head, amused. “Alright. What will we do there?”

“Everything,” Stiles breathed out. “We’ll learn to surf and we’ll walk along the beach every day and if we get tired of the ocean then we’ll move away to somewhere new. We’ll live in a big city and a small town and then we’ll go up north and live in a cabin. Just the two of us and we’ll go all over the world.”

“Sounds good,” Derek agreed, knocking his swing into Stiles’ as the playground began to come back as the beach faded away. “We’ll have curly fries with dinner at least once a week.”

“And we’ll share an enormous library!” Stiles continued.

“We’ll get eloped in Vegas.”

“Have twenty seven kids!”

Derek waved his hands upwards. “A giant house we built from scratch with 27 rooms, just because we can.”

They went back and forth, build and describing a life just for the two of them, far far away from Beacon Hills and Pack Wars.

“I hate cats,” Derek argued.

“Then we’ll only have one,” Stiles reasoned.

“One cat too many!”

“But kitties are so cute…”

But as always, time passed too quickly.

“It’s getting late,” Stiles whispered, shrugging off the jacket Derek had loaned him reluctantly.

Derek sighed, taking his jacket back quietly and walking back to their cars. Stiles caught the sad look on his face though, before they said their goodbyes.

“Hey,” Stiles whispered, reeling him in for a long kiss. He pulled away just enough to whisper, “I love you.” He pushed Derek up against the door of his jeep, pressing his weight to Derek’s shoulders as he kissed him hard, teeth pulling at Derek’s lips and hands roaming to find the skin beneath his shirt.

Derek let out a low moan as Stiles’ fingers traced patterns along the seam of his jeans, dipping just under the waistband, teasing.

Derek reached a fumbling hand out blindly, grabbing for the handle to the back door of the jeep, swinging it open. He pushed at Stiles until he let up for a moment to guide Derek backwards into the back seats of the vehicle.

Stiles climbed on top of him, shutting the door of his jeep behind him with a rush. He straddled Derek’s waist, staring down at him with open adoration. Derek's cheeks were red and his eyes were glowing bright blue back at Stiles.

Stiles quickly stretched his arms upward and took off his shirt and then leaned down to help Derek pull of his own.

Derek leaned up on his elbows, catching Stiles mouth in another wet kiss. “I love you, too.”

Stiles put an arm on either side of Derek, not quite pinning him, just bracketing him in. He left a trail of open mouth kisses down Derek’s jaw, nipping lightly a few times as he reached his neck. Stiles hated knowing that those marks would heal away, like they'd never been there. He sucked a mark on the right side of Derek’s neck, biting and licking at the skin around it like he could will it to stay.

Derek let out a sound of protest when Stiles pulled away. Stiles looked down though to watch the bruise heal. It was better this way, Derek’s healing erasing the evidence, but Stiles couldn’t help but wish the marks would stay.

Seemingly tired of waiting, Derek pushed himself up to Stiles for another kiss, and his hands fumbled downwards for the button of Stiles’ jeans, popping it open and then unzipping them.

There was a flurry of movement after that. Both men were quickly shedding their jeans and throwing them to the floor. Their underwear quickly followed.

“What do you want?” Stiles asked, rubbing his hands along Derek’s chest.

Derek was already breathing heavily. He grabbed Stiles’ cock, stroking it a few times to make Stiles shudder. “Fuck me.” It wasn't a question. It didn't even sound like a request. It was an order and there was no way Stiles could ignore it. 

Stiles bit his lip, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, I can do that,” he whispered, giving Derek another kiss before retrieving the lube and a condom from the glove compartment.

When he came back a second later he looked down along Derek’s body. His eyes went dark and he smiled. “God, Derek you look good like this.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, impatient. “C’mon.”

Stiles climbed back on top of him, settling himself between Derek’s knees. "I've been thinking about you all week," Stiles told him, leaning down to kiss along Derek's thighs. "The little sounds you make," he said, mouthing at Derek's balls.

Derek let out a whimper, as if on cue. "S-Stiles," he whined, voice going high and sounding broken.

"Shh," Stiles whispered. He slicked his fingers up quickly and then reached for Derek. He teased a finger at his hole, circling it slightly until Derek was shifting, trying to make Stiles push into him.

“Mmmm, you’re in a hurry,” Stiles commented, leaning forward to kiss Derek’s collarbone as he finally pushed his finger in.

“Eager,” Derek said, whining softly as a second finger slid into him. He arched his back, moaning as Stiles rubbed firmly at his prostate. "You're a fucking menace."

Stiles took his time though, scissoring Derek open. It was almost too much at once, the firm weight of Stiles on top of him, taking time to map out Derek. He bit lightly at Derek’s nipple and then sucked softly because he was an evil bastard who liked to get Derek all riled up. Stiles' attention wouldn't stay there for long. He liked to take his time, opening Derek up and kissing every inch of skin he could reach.

By the time Stiles got up to three fingers, Derek was a shaking mess.

“Stiles,” Derek pleaded, fingers burying into the man’s hair as Stiles licked along his hip bone, "please. Please"

“Hmmm?” Stiles questioned, smiling at Derek smugly. His free hand ran up and down Derek’s thigh lightly as he crooked his three fingers into Derek to find the bundle of nerves that made Derek cry out. “You need something, Sweetheart?” His breath was warm against Derek’s skin.

Derek felt himself trembling; an entire lifetime of perfect control and having to fight for what he needed—wanted. And Stiles was there to make him feel like the center of the universe. Like he’d give Derek anything, if only he’d ask.

“Please,” Derek whispered, fingers curling into the seats. “Please—your mouth—your fingers—I—”

“I’ve got you,” Stiles assured him, lowering his head so that he could place a kiss at the head of Derek’s cock. And then Derek felt Stiles mouth, warm and wet along his length.

“Stiles,” Derek moaned, head falling back at the feeling. He felt so close already. He gripped Stiles’ hair probably a bit too tight but Stiles hummed at that, sending the vibrations through Derek. He had to fight the instinct to buck into the warm heat, letting Stiles take care of him instead.

But it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Damn it, Stiles,” Derek shouted. “Fuck me. I’m ready, please just fuck me!”

Stiles pulled away, looking up at Derek to smile. “I could never say no to you,” he informed Derek before he was sliding his fingers out.

There was the crinkling sound of the condom wrapper and then the sound of the lube bottle again.

Derek twitched at the empty feeling, suddenly the too-much stimulus he’d been getting was all gone. But then Stiles was lining up at his entrance, slowly pushing into him.

“Stiles,” Derek said, hands going to Stiles’ ass to try to push him in faster.

“Shhh,” Stiles whispered, finally sinking all the way in. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Stiles set a slow pace, hard in his thrusts but not their usual, desperate speed.

Derek was saying his name over and over, muttering it as the name got caught in moans.

“I’m close,” Stiles mumbled into the skin of Derek’s neck. He reached between them, grabbing Derek’s cock and stroking it in time with his thrusts. “C’mon, Sweetheart,” he said. He tightened his grip a bit, aiming his thrusts with hard rolls of his hips.

With that, Derek was crying out, arching his back as he reached his orgasm. “Stiles,” he sobbed, hands gripping at the seats. He looked beautiful there, the pleasure too much. His eyes fluttered close and his mouth open and shut.

Stiles thrust into him only a few more times as he stared down at him before he found his own release. It was all intense pleasure he never wanted to end. He lowered himself slowly, giving his weight to Derek. He felt boneless—wobbly.

After a moment he carefully pulled away, tying off the condom and retrieving wet wipes to clean them up.

Derek was sort of dazed still, watching Stiles but not moving or speaking. He shifted though, when Stiles returned so that he could wrap his arms around him. They laid there in the silence for a long moment before Derek finally spoke.

“When I first met you, when you and Scott opened negotiations through Deaton for the first time, it changed everything. You were beautiful and animated and honestly wanted peace. You talked about an outcome that you wanted for both sides in the end, if we could just get through those talks ever few months. And for the first time in my life I thought maybe we could do it. I began to wonder what it would be like if our Pack’s weren’t fighting.”

Stiles burrowed closer to him, resting his head on his chest. “And now?”

“Now you make me wonder what it would be like if my whole world didn’t just revolve around my Pack and yours. From the first few times in Heather’s, being with you made me feel like an actual person for once in my life.”

Stiles shut his eyes, listening to the soft rhythm of Derek’s heart. “I never want to be away from you.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**December 5, 2015**

“You can still back out of this,” John said, stepping up to him from behind.

Stiles jerked at the sound, turning to face his father. “What? No it’s—no, I’m doing this.”

John studied Stiles’ face a moment, like he was searching for some sort of tell. Whatever he found seemed to satisfy him. “Okay, kid. As long as you’re sure.”

Stiles nodded. “I am.” He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back. “It’s just kind of scary, you know?”

“Moon Union?” John asked, giving him a knowing look. He looked off a bit, staring at the wall behind Stiles just over his shoulder. “It’s nice actually. It sounds really freaky, the idea of being able to sense someone—how they’re feeling, where they are…but it’s comforting. Even if the two of you never get along, feeling someone else there is...”

Stiles could remember the aftermath of his mother’s death. Stiles had lost his mother. John had lost his wife and the comfort in his head. He cried and cried from a loneliness in his head no one else seemed to understand.

Most of the members of the Packs didn’t get Moon Union Marriages. Not anymore.

John jerked his head up suddenly. “If he ever hurts you I will gut him slowly.”

Stiles grinned at that, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know you would.” He straightened, looking to the door. “Well, I better get out there.” He made to go but his father caught his shoulder.

“Hey, kid,” John whispered so softly Stiles had to strain to hear. “I’m proud of you. Your mother would be too.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **May 12, 2015**  

_I need to see you_

Stiles smiled at the text, looking around quickly despite the fact that he was all alone in the Pack room. He’d been at for hours already. Sorting through requests from various members of the Pack.

**I could probably get away tomorrow :) Wanna go to the theater again?**

_Stiles I need to see you now. Tonight. Please?_

Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed together. He could feel himself tensing up.

**Is something wrong?**

_It’s the anniversary._

Stiles shut his eyes tight. His parents.

**Ok. I’ll talk to Scott and get out of here. Where?**

_Park in Barnville_

**Give me 20 minutes**

_Thank you_

_____________

 

“Hey,” Stiles said, coming up behind him. “You okay?”

He watched Derek tense up around his shoulders and then relax when Stiles wrapped his arms around him. He carefully turned so they were facing one another.

“Hi,” Derek said, his voice rough and scratchy. His eyes were red and swollen and his face was wet form tears. He ducked down to bury himself in Stiles’ grip. “Thank you for coming.”

Stiles held on to him, unsure what to do. “Of course I came. I love you.”

A sob escaped from Derek. His chest stuttered against Stiles and the sound that came out was long and wet. “I love you too,” he whispered against Stiles’ shirt. “I thought—it’s been twelve years now, you know? But every year everyone talks about it. My mom was a-a g-good alph-pha. But now everyone t-talks about r-revenge. About killing McCalls.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Stiles assured him, moving to settle them both down on the grass. “It’s okay. It’s fine if you’re angry, Derek. They were your parents, and I understand.”

But Derek shook his head against Stiles. “I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

Stiles traced circles on Derek’s back. “What do you want?”

Derek stilled a moment and then sort of collapsed. “I want you. God, I’d run away. Like we said. I do it with you, if it meant I could have you. I want to marry you.”

Stiles stared down at Derek for a moment, his hand not stopping. And then he said. “If you asked me to run away with you, and you meant it. I would.”

“Y-yeah?”

Stiles nodded.

Derek titled his head upwards, eyes big and vulnerable. “What about your family? Your Pack? It wouldn’t solve anything.”

Stiles smiled down at him sadly. “Sometimes people don’t want to be saved. Maybe there is nothing we can do.”

“I wish that if we told them they’d understand. That they could come together for us.” He leaned back. “But I can’t ask you to give up everyone for me. I love you. And I know you couldn’t be happy knowing you abandoned them all. I don’t know if I could either.”

The hand on Derek’s back stopped. “What if—what if we didn’t?”

“What?”

Stiles was looking away though, staring into the park. He seemed to be almost lost in thought. “Were you serious about wanting to marry me?”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **December 5, 2015**  

The house was built taller than Stiles had thought it would be. But it looked homey and comfortable. Stiles couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the porch. They had refused to let him anywhere near the house until the day of their wedding so it was all a surprise.

Stiles didn’t really mind. He was just glad it was there’s. It wasn’t on the beach, and it didn’t have 27 rooms, but it was theirs. It could always be theirs.

It was night already, the full moon in the sky glowing down on them. Waiting. Watching.

Derek was already there, his Pack standing behind him. They all looked ready to spring at the slightest hint of anything. And Stiles was sure, if he turned he would find his own Pack much the same way.

Stiles suddenly felt cold, like a slide of ice down his spine. God, everyone was staring at the two of them. He was so sure something was going to happen. A fight would break out here and now.

“Hey,” said a voice to the side, startling them. Heather was beaming at Stiles.

“You made it!” Stiles grinned back, relieved. He hadn’t been sure she’d come. Most people wanted as far away from Pack affairs as they could.

“Of course I came to your wedding!” she swatted at him. And then she turned, all curious eyes. “You must be Derek Hale.”

Derek blinked at her, taken aback. But recovered quickly. He stepped forward, away from his Pack and towards Heather and Stiles. “I am. You’re Stiles’ friend Heather, with the coffee shop right?”

She reached out to take his hand and Stiles had to hold back laughter. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you.”

Unlike most people there, Heather was dressed up in bright colors, blue and pink. She looked like she was going to a regular ceremony, happy to be there for a couple’s special day.

Derek put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder in a sort of awkward manner. “Are you sure about this?”

Stiles looked between the two Packs, watching the heated glares. And then he turned back to look at Derek. “Yeah, I’m game if you are.”

“I’m not going to chicken out,” Derek declared.

Stiles snorted, shaking his head.

“If everyone is ready, we can begin,” Deaton offered, walking to the backyard of the big house.

It was a tense event. Derek and Stiles both stood in front of everyone, Hales on one side, McCall’s on the other. Everyone wore a stern face but for Heather in the back on the McCall side. She caught Stiles’ eye and gave him a big grin, winking at him.

“We’ll begin now,” Deaton announced loudly so everyone could hear him. Deaton began to ramble a bit, going through the traditional narration. But Stiles wasn’t really paying attention. All he could do was stare at Derek, all dressed up in his suit.

And Derek was staring right back, eyes lit in a way that made Stiles’ knees weak.

By the time the ceremony was over, Stiles felt like he was going to break down. He couldn’t stand it any longer, standing beside Derek with a formal, stilted feeling between them.

“Take hands,” Deaton commanded.

With slow movements, both Derek and Stiles held up their hands, lightly pressing them together. Derek gave Stiles' hand a light squeeze. It felt easier then.

“Will you tie yourselves together before the moon?” Deaton asked, loud.

“Yes,” Derek and Stiles said together.

“Will you connect your minds together before the moon?”

“Yes.”

“Will you name this person your own before the moon?”

“Yes.”

“Then let the moon bless you and keep you.”

With that they both shifted forward, taking each other’s right hand and raising it slowly. Their eyes met and soft smiles were hidden against wrists. And at once, their eyes fell shut and their teeth closed hard over skin, biting down.

It hurt for a moment, the fast pain of pierced skin. Then the pain was gone, and in its place was only a strange euphoria.

And then they could feel it, the circle of love and desire and hope that rebounded through the connection. It spilled back and forth between the two of them. It stopped time. It held and bent and strengthened. It was puzzle pieces coming together. And it was warmth and safety.

Stiles’ magic flared, seeping into the connection as it built. It wrapped around Derek and himself, searching through this new thing between them. This marriage. This _forever_ they had forged.

Derek shifted, his claws scratching lightly at Stiles’ skin as he seemed to lose control of his form for a moment, too caught up in the moment.

The feeling began to fade somewhat though, not exactly dulling so much as lifting.

Very slowly, Stiles opened his eyes to find Derek’s already watching him. And the stoic look on Stiles’ face was almost fooling him. That Derek was unaffected, uncaring. But the connection between them betrayed absolute joy and hope. A hum of pleasure between them.

Together they turned to face their Pack’s, greeting the silence around them with short nods.

“It’s done,” Stiles said.

No one moved. Even Deaton had gone still, watching the crowd carefully.

Derek walked forward first, his legs carrying him towards his Alpha who was staring at him with sadness and worry. “Okay?” Laura asked in a small whisper.

“Okay,” Derek agreed in a small tone, rolling his shoulders back.

And then everyone was moving all at once, turning to move on.

Stiles was bounced around between his father and Scott and Kira and Lydia and other members of his Pack. He hadn’t seen Derek for hours despite that he was probably somewhere on the other side of the yard.

But that was okay. Because he could still feel the hum between them that promised. Derek was his now, forever. Just as Stiles was his.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **May 12, 2015**   

“This is very unprofessional,” Deaton said as he answered the door. “It’s against the established rules for us to talk at all outside of the allotted times, Mr. Stilinski. In the middle of the night, no less. The Hale Pack will have to be informed.”

Stiles smiled awkwardly. “Actually, we’re here to propose an idea to help negotiations.”

Deaton sighed, shaking his head. “What could you—” he faltered. “We?”

Derek stepped into view from where he’d been tucked in the shadows. “We’d like to ask you a favor, Alan. Not as members of our Packs.”

Deaton stared between the two of them, surprise evident on his face. “As who then?”

Stiles and Derek exchanged a look and then Stiles said, “two people in love.”

Deaton’s mouth dropped open a bit, which after everything, was a bit funny to look at. He recovered quickly though, eyes scanning behind the two Seconds for a moment before opening his door wider. “You’d better come inside and explain.”

He sat them down at his kitchen table. Deaton poured himself a glass of water and then sat down too. “Alright, explain.”

“We’d like you to suggest an arranged marriage between the Packs,” Derek said simply. “Between the Second of each Pack.”

Deaton looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment. Then he sighed, set down his glass of water and spread his hands. “I guess you’d better start at the beginning.”

Stiles licked his lips. “Well, do you know the coffee house in town? Café Verona?”


	3. He is my Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is suuuuuper late and I'm very sorry. Thank you for your patience! I really hope you like it!!!!

 

**December 5, 2015**

The two packs got ready to depart, leaving only Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski behind. For the first time that evening since the connection had been forged, Derek and Stiles stood side by side on their porch. They kept leaning in towards one another without thinking and then having to step away without drawing attention to themselves. They didn’t even dare to look at one another let along speak until the rest were gone.

“We’ll be going now,” Scott said slowly, studying Stiles as if he was waiting for his best friend to collapse on the ground crying “please don’t go!” When Stiles just nodded awkwardly Scott continued. “I know we agreed that you guys should have a few days to try to…get to know one another but if you need to come back before three days don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah,” Laura agreed with an eye roll. “If you guys think one of you will end up snapping and killing the other, feel free to cut the time short. I think that’s pretty obvious.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed towards the other Alpha.

“Well, okay,” Kira said, clapping her hands together awkwardly. “We’ll see you soon, Stiles. Good luck boys!”

Stiles snorted, shaking his head fondly at her. “Thanks, Kira. See you soon.”

* * *

 

  **May 12, 2015**

 “Do you two understand the intensity of a Moon Union?” Deaton questioned. “It’s permanent and basically strips away privacy between two people. And you can’t undo it.” He took a deep breath. “You both live dangerous lives where it isn’t exactly safe. There is a reason that most people in your packs do not get Moon Unions, no matter how close the couple is.”

“Deaton, my parents had a Moon Union.” Stiles looked almost offended, and a bit impatient and annoyed. “I know what it did to my dad after my mom died. I get it. But if this was actually going to work, that’d have to be part of the marriage.”

“We’re willing to risk it,” Derek assured him desperately and then looking at Stiles for confirmation. God he wanted this. Needed this. It was a pipedream that almost seemed tangible. Almost seemed like it could be real.

He could marry Stiles and still stay with his pack.

Deaton sighed. He seemed to do that a lot.

* * *

 

 

  **December 6, 2015**

When Derek awoke the first thing he thought of was how comfortable he was. There was a certain warmth to him. Except—it was like a warm layer just beneath his skin, stretching over his bones and flowing through his veins. God, it was the feeling of contentment and love and happiness all consuming.

The second thing he registered was the soft sound of someone else’s breathing. A quiet snore.

Slightly started, Derek opened his eyes to find a head on his chest, his own arms wrapped around someone. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but it took a moment for it to really register what he was looking at. What he was feeling.

It was like a dream, warm and full of wonder—a happiness he had never known. His whole life had been completely devoted and centered around his Pack and the feud between them. Except, here he was. And he didn’t think he’d ever need anything else ever again.

Derek stared, his eyes trained on Stiles sleeping body draped half across Derek in his usual sprawling manner. Without thinking, Derek held his breath, goosebumps trailing down his arms as he stared. The sound of Stiles soft, whistling snore filled the bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. That they shared. Because they were married. He had married Stiles.

Very slowly, with careful movements, Derek moved his arms to wrap around Stiles tighter, shifting the man so that he was at a less awkward angle.

“Mmm,” Stiles let out a low mumble in his sleep, turning his head slightly to smash his face more firmly beneath Derek’s collarbone. The slight scratch of Stiles’ morning stubble moved across Derek’s skin, sent a small shiver up his spine.

God, they’d done it. The honest truth of it felt so fragile in Derek’s mind, like it might slip away from him at any moment. But the strong, content connection at the back of his mind, the one that focused on Stiles and gave off waves of happiness, it was very much real.

Biting his lip and giving in to curiosity, Derek concentrated on the connection. It thrummed under his mental touch, lighting up and bringing an even deeper awareness. It was like a thread that ran from his mind to Stiles’ on another plane. It wasn’t something Derek thought he could ever put into words, and the vague descriptions of what a Moon Union felt like that people had given suddenly made sense.

Such a connection surely should not be forged lightly. Derek thought that even if he wasn’t sharing his bed with Stiles at that moment he would be aware of the man’s sleeping state, comfortable and warm and happy. It was so intense and seemed to strip some walls of privacy down between two people, baring souls and threatening to be too much. For some people the connection could only bring them closer. Like people who wished to spend forever together.

A shaky breath seeped out of Derek as an incredulous smile broke his face that was probably really ridiculous. And he thought of last night. Jesus—their wedding night.

Derek had spent months without being able to hold Stiles. Without being able to sit and talk with him and breathe in his scent and listen to him ramble. The daily texts back and forth hadn’t been enough. Could never be enough. But Derek had spent nights imagining what he’d do—what they’d do, when they were finally allowed to. When they belonged to each other and no one could ever take it away.

Derek had imagined desperate, fast, passionate sex. Everyone from each pack would leave after the wedding and they’d retreat into their house. And the moment the door shut, one would push the other up against it, too desperate. Especially now with the Moon Union marriage connection singing between them. He’d imagined Stiles hot mouth against his skin. He imagined the sound of Stiles’ racing heart. It was inevitable, obvious, the way they could crash into each other and find they fit together as well as they could remember.

But when the door shut, Derek was met with silence.

_Stiles turned the locks of the door slowly, clicking them loudly into place. His body sort of sagged, like now he could relax, and his shoulders lowered. He turned with equal slowness, and where Derek had imagined primal hunger to reflect in his gaze, was pure happiness and wonder. And they just stood there like that for a good long moment._

_“Derek,” Stiles breathed, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile as tears welled up in his eyes. “Jesus, Derek. I can feel you in every part of my mind.”_

_Derek could feel it too. Stiles. He was filling the cracks in Derek’s brain, a steady feeling of awe that rebounded Derek’s head. It was almost like Derek could read Stiles’ mind, but it was something more than that—not the words that circled Stiles head but the feelings that radiated off of him._

_So much love. So bright and beautiful and unreal. And it was Derek’s._

_“We did it,” Derek replied, voice breaking._

_And then Stiles did step towards him, but instead of a surging, heated kiss, he got strong arms around him in an embrace that was tight and anchoring. “We did.” Stiles put their foreheads together. “God, we did Derek. I missed you. I missed you so fucking much, but I knew it would work—had to believe that I could have you forever. Because I couldn’t not.” Stiles shook his head. “I couldn’t live anyway other than with you forever. I love you. God. God, Derek please hold me. Just fucking hold me.”_

_And Derek did. He was reminded for a moment of those romance movies that he had wrinkled his nose at when he was a young boy. With a tight grip, he held Stiles against him, cradling him carefully against his body and holding him. Love rebounded through their connection. Awe and love and happiness and wonder. No uncertainty. No regret or fear or hesitance of any kind. Derek understood then, what was so special about Moon Union connections and why when someone lost the connection they often went crazy. Because to have and then lose something as powerful and beautiful as this—it would be to taste heaven and then feel the flames of hell._

_“I love you,” Derek whispered back, unnecessarily. “And now I don’t ever have to let you go.”_

_Stiles pulled back then, but didn’t let go of Derek’s hands. He looked around, eyes darting around the entrance of their new house, taking in a sight he’d seen before. They’d already dropped of boxes the day before in preparation for their moving in. It would take time to unpack but…they had time. God, they had forever now._

_When Stiles eyes went back to Derek they both went still. And maybe it was crazy. They’d done it so many times by now. But now, it was like it was new. Like it was their first kiss._

_It was Derek who tilted his head, slotting his lips to Stiles’. Stiles returned the pressure, leaning into the kiss and pushing his arms to wrap around Derek’s neck. They took it slow at first, pressing into one another. And then it was as if a switch were flicked._

_Stiles managed to untuck Derek’s dress shirt without him noticing. And then Stiles’ hands were working on the belt of his jeans a bit frantic, undressing Derek as he kissed him. Derek’s hands moved to squeeze at Stiles’ ass, making the other man let out a squeak._

_Derek had to pull back a little to let out a chuckle at that._

_Stiles fought a smile—always a losing war with that one—and raised an eyebrow at Derek. “Shut up, Wolf Man. And take me to bed.”_

_And Derek grinned back at him, moving quickly to pick Stiles up. Stiles let out a laugh as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s hips._

_“As you wish,” Derek declared, and made to do as he was told. They had months to make up for._

“Husband of mine,” Stiles said, startling Derek out of his own head, “what are you thinking about that’s going you feeling like that?” Stiles was looking up at him with a lazy smile, his eyes lidded with sleep still echoing in them. But he grinned up at Derek with amusement.

He could feel it then, the sudden touch of Stiles’ awareness along the connection, plucking at it like harp strings, amusement seeping in from Stiles’ side.

Derek blushed as he realized that the connection between them must have been radiating out lust and happiness from Derek. “You.”

Stiles ducked his head slightly, kissing softly at Derek’s chest. “Mmhmm. After the fourth round last night I thought maybe we’d have sated you for a bit,” he teased but Derek could feel the sudden interest from Stiles through the connection and against his hip.

“I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you,” Derek answered honestly.

Stiles pushed up to place his arms on either side of Derek. “Only one way to find out,” Stiles said mischievously, and then rocked against Derek firmly. They both groaned at the sensation of skin against skin, their clothing all long lost along the staircase last night.

Derek’s arms shot up to grip at Stiles, pushing lightly to flip them over. He leaned down to kiss along his neck as he kept them rocking together lazily. The connection between them just increasing their pleasure from one another.

“I—ahhh,” Stiles said, arching up into Derek’s hip roll, “—think we should stay here in bed the rest of the day.”

Derek hummed his agreement, nuzzling closer to Stiles and then snaking his arm down between them to grip Stiles in hand. He smiled then at the sound of Stiles’ breath catching as Derek stroked him.

“D-did I say rest of the day?” Stiles said with heavy breathing. “I mean th-the rest of—nnng—of our lives.”

Derek sped up, finding a good pace for Stiles who kept bucking into his grip with his fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

“Stiles,” Derek growled into his ear in a soft tone.

“Y-Yeah?” Stiles asked, eyelids fluttering as Derek worked him up.

“Cum for me,” Derek commanded with a strong nip to his ear.

Stiles’ release came with a loud sigh, his arms gripping Derek tightly as they both rode out the feeling between the connection. And then Stiles slumped down into the mattress, lazily looking up at Derek. “Just give me a minute, and then I want to blow you.”

Derek grinned down at him, thumb stroking along Stiles’ cheek bones. “I’m not going to say no to that.”

* * *

 

  **May 12, 2015**  

“This….Heather, she’s the only one who knows about the two of you?” Deaton asked.

Stiles and Derek looked at each other a moment and then nodded.

“Yeah, pretty sure,” Stiles said.

Deaton frowned, leaning forward in his seat. “No, I need you to be positive. If…if we do this we’re going to have to be sure about what we’re going into.”

“You think it would work?” Derek asked, eyes going wide with hope.

Deaton sighed, his frown deepening. “It has potential.”

“…but?”

“But it’s dangerous. We have no way of knowing how people in the packs will respond to something like this. It sounds insane.”

Derek nodded. “But we’re going to do it.”

Deaton hesitated.

“Alan,” Stiles said desperately. “Please. I don’t want to have to leave my pack—my family behind in this pointless war. But for Derek…I would.”

Fixing his jaw for a moment, Deaton crossed his arms. “You have to recognize the position you two are putting me in. This is ludicrous.” He leaned back. “I never would have guessed. Not in a million years. Honestly, the fact that the two of you…it doesn’t make any sense.”

Derek puffed up his chest, reaching for Stiles. “It makes sense to us. And that’s what matters, right?”

Deaton smiled softly, amused. “Fair enough. Well then we’d better make an airtight plan. There would be planning, and the two of you would have to stop meeting up.”

“Stop meeting up,” Stiles repeated. “Derek and I?”

Deaton spread out his hands. “We need to make sure there is no suspicions around the circumstances or it’ll all fall through. It would just be until the Union.”

“But we’re talking about months!” Stiles practically shouted.

Deaton gave him a sympathetic smile that lacked genuine feeling. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

* * *

 

 

  **December 6, 2015**

“Are you ready yet?” Stiles hollered, unable to stop smiling.

“Just a second!”

Stiles waited in their bedroom, just in front of the bed as he waited for Derek to return. “This is probably the cheesiest, most ridiculous thing I have ever…” he trailed off as Derek stepped out of the bathroom, brushing down his suit and tie.

“It was your idea,” Derek reminded him, blushing under Stiles’ approving eyes. Unlike their ceremony with the packs, Derek and Stiles were both dressed up now in suits and ties. While suits weren’t exactly the best look for Stiles as he tended just to look as uncomfortable in them as he felt, Derek was mouth-watering.

“It was a great idea,” Stiles said then, studying Derek with heat. “A fantastic idea really.”

Derek laughed. “You look great, too.”

“Thanks,” Stiles smiled at him. “You ready to do this?”

“Absolutely.”

They went downstairs to stand in their living room by the fireplace. They kept giggling, stopping along the staircase to exchange casual kisses and holding hands the whole way.

“Did you grab the camera?”

Derek pointed to it on the coffee table. “Yep.”

“You want to go first then?” Stiles asked and Derek could hear his heart pounding with excitement.

Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ hands, thumbs running carefully along his fingers. “Okay. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Genim Stilinski,” he said, his voice going low in seriousness, “will you take me, Derek Hale to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward? For better, or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? To give plenty hugs and kisses and love? To dream with and to enjoy life with for as long as we both shall live?”

Stiles’ smile grew. “I do.” And then, he raised their joined hands to his lips and laid a soft kiss over Derek’s knuckles. His eyes were soft as he stared up at his husband. “Derek Hale will you take me, Genim Stilinski to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward? For better, or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? To give plenty hugs and kisses and love? To dream with and to enjoy life with for as long as we both shall live?”

“God, I do.”

“Then you’d better kiss the groom,” Stiles informed him but then didn’t wait a moment to grab hold of Derek, pull him tight against him, and kiss the life out of him.

And through their connection there was an infinite loop of ecstasy. A promise of what was to come, if only that no matter what they faced it would be together.

They took pictures together, and ate cake—just the two of them. They drank wine and Stiles got a bit tipsy and they danced to ridiculous music and spent the night trading stories from their childhoods and it was wonderful.

That night they were not McCalls or Hales or pack members or Seconds or anything but two men desperately and passionately in love.

* * *

 

 

  **December 9, 2015**

Stiles leaned down to kiss Derek awake, fingers running softly down his chest.

Derek’s eyelids fluttered open, and he gave his husband a tired, lazy smile. “Mo’nin’” he muttered and then yawned.

“I made breakfast,” Stiles told him, letting Derek slip his arms around him. “Pancakes.” He used his singing voice that was probably an attempt to make it more enticing but always just made Derek chuckle.

“Blueberries?” Derek asked. He leaned forward to rest his head against Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles scratched at his head. “Of course. C’mon. Busy day.”

Derek huffed. “Can’t we call in sick?”

 “Both of us?” Stiles laughed. “On our first day back?”

Derek pulled himself out of their bed, reluctant to leave the nice warmth and soft smell of the two of them. He’d follow Stiles anywhere though. “Well it isn’t like three days is a very long honey moon,” he grumbled.

Stiles snorted. “As far as they’re concerned, they’re doing us a favor by having us go back to work and get away from each other.”

“Oh no,” Derek deadpanned. “Someone save me from the love of my life. Help. Police.”

Stiles swatted at him, and the surge of love and fondness from Stiles’ end of the connection made Derek stumble. It was hard getting used to it. All Derek wanted to do was tackle Stiles every time he felt what was between them so obviously tangible at the back of his head. A part of him hoped he would never get used to it.

Derek rubbed at his eyes and made his way down the stairs. He was starting to get comfortable in their house, his wolf already settled with the new place. It was homey with their stuff all around and eventually, when the two of them were both officially unpacked, it would be perfect. And this marriage between him Stiles—why, it was a promise that they could spend the rest of their lives arguing about books and sharing articles they had found and having show marathons together. And have lots and lots of hot, passionate sex.

Derek had to pause to watch the pancakes flipping themselves over on the stove all by themselves. Stiles insisted that it really didn’t do anything other than allow him to be lazy, but Derek was convinced that Stiles’ magic having a hand in making breakfast made it taste better.

“What time will you be home?” Stiles asked, pulling plates out of the cupboard they’d put them in last night when they’d finally found the box of dishes.

“Ehhh, usually five but I could probably skip out a bit early.”

Derek grabbed the plate of pancakes and brought them to the table. Stiles would have preferred chocolate chips in his pancakes but had opted to make all blueberry ones because he knew Derek liked them better.

Stiles nodded. “Well I should be back at about four but I have to go on a patrol at seven because Scott decided he was going to try to schedule stuff more, and he’s probably trying to help me stay away from my husband as much as possible.”

Derek shook his head, hating the way no one could know he and Stiles loved each other. It was for a good reason, but Derek hated it all the same.

Stiles and Derek shared a shower after breakfast, both reluctant to leave for the day. Derek could feel anxiety from Stiles but he could see it too, in the way Stiles worried his bottom lip absent-mindedly.

“We’ll be fine,” Derek tried to reassure him, but Stiles gave him a raised eyebrow in response because he could feel Derek fighting his instincts to drag Stiles back up to their bedroom to keep him safe and happy. He kissed Stiles soundly and then pulled away with some difficulty.

Stiles began to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on Derek as he drifted towards his Pack’s side of the boundary line. “You’ll text me throughout the day?”

“Continuously,” Derek promised, trying to force himself to walk in the opposite direction. “And I’ll be home about the same time as you.”

“Okay. You’d better be.”

“I love you!” Derek shouted.

“Shh!” Stiles laughed back at him and then disappeared from sight. It took a little longer for him to go out of hearing range.

And then Derek’s phone vibrated.

**I love you too, Dork <3**

 

**_____________**

 

 

“Gee, you look like you haven’t slept since the wedding.”

Derek paused in step, considering. The need to go hunt Stiles down was probably obvious on his face, thought it was probably not interpreted as such. “I’m fine.”

Cora shifted Kyle on her hip, the little baby boy’s eyes wide as he stared around. He was about 16 months old already and he was a total menace, just like his mother. But he had Isaac’s innocent eyes. Derek held out his arms to take his nephew, grinning down tiredly at him.

“If you can’t sleep because you think he might attack you in his sleep…I wouldn’t be too worried. Everyone knows he can’t fight,” Cora offered, setting Kyle carefully into Derek’s outstretched arms when Kyle made grabby hands towards his uncle. “I admit he’s got some powerful defensive magic, but he wouldn’t be able to hurt you. Guarantee it. You do need to sleep though.”

“Leave him alone, Cora,” Peter said, coming up behind her. “I bet he and Second Stilinski didn’t get much sleep between the rounds of rough, hate-sex.”

Derek shifted Kyle away from Peter with a glare which was met only with an eye roll.

Cora wrinkled her nose. “The two of them can’t stand one another. Even though they got officially married and went through a Moon Union, that doesn’t mean—”

“I imagine that the anger and hatred between the two of them was enough to generate some seriously passionate feelings. The sexual tension was ridiculous.”

Derek frowned at Peter with a dark glare. “Why does everyone say how much Stilinski and I hate each other? Why would I hate him more than any of the other McCalls?”

Cora snorted. “As disturbing as it is to think of you and Stilinski having awkward, angry sex, Peter has a point. The two of you have always been at each other’s throats.”

Derek considered this for a moment. The idea of him and Stiles. Of hating him. For so long the two of them argued—long before Café Verona, but even then Derek had never hated Stiles. Had only respected Stiles and held an irritation for the snappy remarks.

“He’s an annoying jackass, not a murdering psychopath.”

“He’s a McCall,” Cora said with a sigh.

Derek looked down at baby Kyle, sticking out his tongue out at his nephew just to see him giggle. “We’re supposed to be trying to get along with them. You really want to teach Kyle to hate people like that?”

“Don’t be so high and mighty, Derek,” Peter said in a low tone. “You hate them just as much as we do. Do you really think that you and Stilinski could ever actually get along? I’m sure you’re both trying right now, awkwardly sharing space and all. But eventually one of you will have too much and try to kill the other.” He raised his eyebrows at Derek. “Just make sure you’re not caught unaware, hmmm? I’d rather it was you who snapped than him.”

Cora punched Peter in the shoulder, shaking her head at him with disapproval. When she turned back to Derek with Kyle in his hands, her expression softened. “No one expects you and Stilinski to actually get along, okay Derek? So don’t put it on yourself to fix this singlehandedly. I know that you were backed into a corner and didn’t have much of a choice in all of this. But eventually things will work out, I promise.”

“I’m fine,” Derek snapped.

“I can see that,” Peter said with an obnoxious grin. He looked at Kyle then and smiled. “Kyle, can you see _idiot_?”

“Peter!” Cora hissed, pushing him away from her son as he cackled.

“I’dot’ I‘dot’!” Kyle shouted in compliance, as if announcing to the world that he could, in fact say the word.

 

_____________ 

 

“Hey, kid,” John greeted Stiles, hugging him tightly when he was near enough. “How’s the married life?”

“Fine,” Stiles said uncommitted. “How’s my Pack been since I’ve been gone?”

John rolled his eyes as he pulled away. “Well in the past three days…absolutely nothing has happened.”

Stiles gave a wry smile. “You never know with the McCall Pack.”

“I suppose.”

“You’ve been going crazy knowing I was out at the territory line, living with a Hale, haven’t you?”

John didn’t even bother to look sheepish. “You’re my kid. I’m allowed to worry. After losing your mother no one should blame me for being concerned about you. Besides, now that I’m retired I don’t have work to throw myself into for distraction.”

Stiles snorted. “Mhmm, because you don’t keep busy enough here with the pack.”

“I just don’t like that you were forced into this.”

“No one forced me to do anything!”

“Right. You were backed into a corner same as that Hale boy and I do not have to like it.”

“No one likes it,” Stiles agreed. “But it’s really not that bad. We have agreed not to try to murder one another and if he decided to change his mind about that, I’d probably know.” He tapped the side of his head.

John’s shoulders slumped at that. “That’s the other thing. Moon Union’s should be sacred. What your mother and I had was special, so that connection just served as a beautiful reminder of what we were. It shouldn’t be so rudely used as a safety device so neither of you can just back out of this like it never happened. It’s stupid.”

“It’s convenient.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? Feeling all that hate and anger aimed towards you? I know feeling someone else there can be…comforting. But knowing someone has so much negative feeling for you has to be hard, right?”

Stiles hated this. His father hating Derek and thinking the worst of him. It was hard to listen to. To swallow. “Tell you what, if you’re really that worried why don’t Derek and I come over for dinner tomorrow? It’ll probably help us get along to have another person there, and then you can actually meet Derek.”

John looked shocked at the suggestion, at something so normal as a family dinner. But Stiles supposed everyone still looked at it all as a sort of farce.

“Just the three of us here? Do we need to make sure it’s okay with our Alphas?”

Stiles frowned. “Why on earth would we have to do that?”

John shook his head. “I don’t’ know. It’s just weird I guess. You think Hale would come over if you asked him to?”

“He’ll come.”

“Really? Why?”

Stiles just shrugged.

John snorted. “Right. Okay. Sorry. Anyways, you should probably be headed to the office.”

“Probably.”

Stiles could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he made his way to his office, or around the territory to collect papers and do rounds. Everyone wanted to their Second, as if to make sure he was all in one piece. Or like he was a zoo attraction. He wasn’t sure which one was worse.

For the most part, there were extreme negative reactions from the pack when everyone heard that Stiles was going to be marrying Second Hale. It was insulting to them, to think that a McCall would marry—would live with someone like that. But time had gotten many of them used to the idea. Stiles was suspicious that this was because they believed it was part of some sort of master plan to murder Derek in his sleep.

However, now everyone was on edge today, walking around him like broken glass was scattered across the floor. Everyone was especially kind—Mrs. Hendricks had given him a pie fresh out of the oven, and everyone gave him sympathetic looks.

For the most part it was very annoying. At least most people were off territory at work and school.

Scott was by far the worst though. He kept glancing at Stiles, as if he was waiting for his Second to begin gushing about how awful it was and cry about how he wish he hadn’t done it. But Scott refused to ask, as if he was determined to make sure the day was as normal as possible.

“Okay, okay we can talk about it,” Stiles finally gave up after Scott snuck another look at him. “I’m not going to get any of my work done if you keep staring at me like a kicked puppy and I’m days behind now.”

Scott’s eyes got apologetic. “I’m sorry! We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I got married to Derek Hale. For the last three days we have been unpacking boxes and taking turns making meals which we eat together. It’s a bit weird to live with someone new like that, but we are both trying. Yes, he is a jackass. No, he hasn’t tried to kill me. Yes, I am okay. Yes, I will tell you if I stop being okay. Okay?”

Scott nodded stiffly. “What about the, uh…”

“Moon Union mind connection voodoo?”

Another nod.

Stiles sighed, leaning back in his chair. His and Scott’s desks were facing each other in their shared office. Their Pack Center had two offices there for the Alpha and Second but after a few months they’d given up trying to work that way. Sharing the space this way was easier. They used the spare office for mapping and planning. It worked perfectly for the two of them. But now Stiles kind of wished they were in opposite offices.

“It’s a bit overwhelming, and I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“But you can feel what he’s feeling?”

“I mean, sort of? It’s complicated. It’s like there’s a string tied between us and if I were to tug on the string I could tell you what he was feeling. Of if whatever he’s feeling is strong enough I guess I’ll feel it.” Stiles thought about the sudden wave of intensity that passed over him as Derek climaxed, chest heaving and eyes hooded. Stiles blushed and shook his head. “It’ll take time but we’ll manage it.”

Scott nodded yet again, jerkily. “Right, right. Sorry. I know this is hard enough without everyone prying.”

Stiles just shrugged. “Hey, it’s you. You don’t count.”

Preening at that, Scott seemed satisfied to let them get back to work. “Alright. We need to figure out the payment plan for the college kids…”

* * *

 

 **December 10, 2016**  

 

“I hate you.”

“You really don’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell him I was a terrifying, blood-hungry psychopath that refused to come to dinner?” Derek whined.

“Because I told him you were a terrifying, blood-hungry psychopath that _would_ come to dinner,” Stiles teased, watching Derek fuss with his button-up shirt. “C’mon, don’t you wanna meet my dad? I feel like we’re at least at the point in the relationship where you can meet my father. We are, in fact, married.”

They didn’t bother to lock the door behind them, but made their way towards the territory line to cross over into McCall Pack territory.

“I do want to meet your Dad,” Derek agreed. “I do not, however, want to get shot by him.”

Stiles chuckled. “He’s not going to…you’d heal.”

Derek glared at him. “You’re not funny.”

“What?” Stiles gasped, clutching at his chest. “I see how it is. Honeymoon phase is over, huh?”

Derek flicked him in the back of the head and then sighed. “Let’s go. I think he’ll hate me more if we’re late.”

“Oh, Derek,” Stiles sighed, “I don’t think it’s possible for him to hate you anymore than he already does.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch,” Derek told him, pointing a finger at him menacingly. And then stopped walking. His eyes were fixed on his feet, tips of his shoes toeing at the boundary line.

Stiles took hold of his hand and pulled softly, urging Derek forward. “It’ll be okay. No one is going to hurt you.”

Derek looked up at him and took in a deep breath. Shut his eyes a moment and took a step forward. And then another.

 

 _____________

                                                                

As uncomfortable as it was to walk through McCall territory with people watching him, glaring at him, it was far more unsettling to stand on the stoop of John Stilinski’s house as he stared at him. Derek thought John Stilinski just might have invited him for dinner so that he could kill him.

“Okay,” Stiles said awkwardly, grinning widely with eyes trained on his Dad as if trying to say something with a look. “Now my husband and I are going to enter your house so that we can actually have dinner.”

Not looking away from Derek, John stepped back slowly, opening the door wider so that Stiles could yank Derek inside hastily and shut to door behind him.

“Thank you for inviting us, Sir,” Derek said stiffly, feeling stupidly like ducking behind Stiles to shield himself from the heavy look of his dad.

“Well, Hale, I figured if you’re going to be a permanent fixture in my son’s life I’d better make sure we were better acquainted.”

“Derek, please.”

John Stilinski just stared at him a moment and then nodded. “Alright. Derek. You can call me John—or a lot of people still call me Sheriff. Did Stiles mention I’m a retired cop?” He tapped the gun at his waist in a casual motion.

“Dad, could we maybe sit down at the table before we begin subtle threats? I’m starving.”

Stiles steered Derek towards the kitchen quickly, and Derek stumbled trying to toe his shoes off quickly at the door.

It was probably the most awkward dinner of Derek’s life. He was given a steak, cooked just right, but he was completely unable to enjoy it because he was pinned beneath the heavy gaze of Sheriff Stilinski who was apparently very good at being absolutely terrifying. Derek honestly believed this guy could rip his face off.

“I have to admit that you’ve surprised me, Derek. I didn’t think that Stiles could convince you to come here for dinner.” The way he said Derek’s name sounded almost as if he was calling Derek some insult.

Derek shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the amusement coming from Stiles through the bond. Asshole.

“You’re his father,” Derek said slowly, trying to be careful, “and we’re married now. We’re trying to make it work.”

“Trying to get along and agreeing to meet the dad like this seems a bit different,” John mused, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the long plan?”

“Derek and I are compromising,” Stiles interjected. “I asked him to come to meet you and he did. What, are you disappointed? Stop giving him the third-degree for doing what I asked him to.”

“Sorry,” John held up his hands defensively. “It’s just that it’s a bit hard to swallow that you’ve married him—a Hale. And that you two hate each other but will still be coexisting and trying not to kill one another.”

“We don’t hate each other,” Derek denied quickly. “I mean, we haven’t ever gotten along at the meetings but I have never hated Stiles more than any other McCall.”

Stiles pointed his fork at Derek. “Yeah, Dad. Derek and I are all magic moon unioned now. I’d know if he was plotting my death.”

John lifted a beer to his lips, considering this. “But do you two actually think you could learn to get along? To actually build a civil relationship that isn’t stilted and uncomfortable?”

“We haven’t been fighting tonight!” Stiles pointed out.

“No,” John agreed. “You’ve barely spoken to each other at all this evening. You know what that tells me? You probably don’t talk much when you’re alone either.”

“Dad—”

“I hate this,” John said, cutting Stiles off. “I hate that this pack feud has taken away any chance you had of having your own life that was happy and fulfilling.” He set his bottle of beer down on the table hard, making both other men flinch. He swung his arm loosely towards Derek to gesture at him. “And I’m supposed to act like everything is fine with this man? This—this monster my son has married because he was backed into a corner?”

“I’m not going to hurt Stiles,” Derek tried.

John glared at him. “You’re already hurting Stiles. Whether you two learn to get along or not, it doesn’t matter. Neither of you will ever truly be comfortable in your own home. You’ll never really get to live your lives. What father wants that for his son? Everyone knows this is a joke. This feud lost my wife her life, and now it’s taken my son’s too.”

“Dad, calm down,” Stiles said harshly. “Quit yelling. You’re being ridiculous. I agreed to marry Derek. And it isn’t his fault we’re in this situation.”

“This situation is a clusterfuck,” John said angrily.

“We’ve talked about this,” Stiles said calmly, but Derek could see his hands shaking. “You knew what I was doing. This isn’t new. I made a choice and I’m living with it. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make it harder by yelling at my husband when we’re all trying to get along.”

“Husband,” John repeated with a grumble but his voice had gone quiet again. He glanced at Derek momentarily again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. You may be a Hale but you’re married to my son now and…Sorry.”

 The pain radiating off of Stiles was giving Derek a headache. He wanted to wrap his husband up in his arms and take him away from the rest of the world. But John Stilinski was the most important person in Stiles’ life. Even more important than Scott or Derek. And Stiles was causing his Dad pain—their secrets were causing him pain.

Stiles wasn’t meeting his eyes as Derek stared at him, wondering what he would do if his mother and father were still alive.

“I love him,” Derek said simply, not even pausing to consider the implications.

That seemed to startle John. “What?”

“Derek,” Stiles’ head shot up and he hissed. “What are you doing?”

“I love Stiles more than anything in the whole world, and I would do anything in my power to make him happy,” Derek admitted. He ignored Stiles’ panicked expression and reached across the kitchen table to grip his give his hand a squeeze. “Just being around him makes me happy.”

Stiles sort of deflated, allowing Derek to lace their fingers together. “Damn it, Derek. This is the sort of thing we should have discussed. Communication. We agreed not to tell anyone without talking it through.”

Derek gave him an apologetic look but shrugged. “It was upsetting you.”

John Stilinski was gaping, eyebrows furrowed and eyes darting from Stiles to Derek and back again. “What the hell is going on?”

Stiles sighed, but Derek could feel relief through the bond. Like Stiles had needed this permission to be honest to his father. “Dad, we’re in love.”

John stared at his son a long moment, and then, when it was obvious that no one was shouting “just kidding” he rubbed a hand down his face. “What the hell does that mean, kid? You can’t have fallen in love in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, wincing.

“Stiles,” John said slowly, “what the hell is going on?”

“When Deaton presented the idea to the Alphas it wasn’t a news to us,” Derek admitted.

John’s attention snapped back to him. “It wasn’t—you mean this arranged marriage was…?”

 “Actually kind of arranged by us? Yeah,” Derek agreed.

John sat back in his seat, silent.

“Dad, I wanted to tell you,” Stiles said in a soft tone that Derek had never heard before. “You kind of knew, actually. When you asked if I was seeing someone?”

John blinked at him. “That was like a year ago.”

“More like a year and a half,” Stiles shrugged.

John turned to Derek, eyes sharp. “You two have both been going behind your Alpha’s backs? This marriage between the two of you isn’t just…obligation?”

Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand where their fingers were still laced together.

“Marrying Stiles is probably the best thing I’ve ever done,” Derek informed, chin tipping upwards. “I can appreciate the fact that you want what is best for your son. I know I’m a Hale and you couldn’t—that we’re not—” Derek cut off and then gave a shaky smile. “It wouldn’t end well if everyone knew the truth, but I swear that I will give our marriage everything that I have. Because I love Stiles and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to deserve him.”

John looked as if someone had hit him. His eyes flashed with disbelief as he stared down at the linked hands of the Seconds. “You love him? A Hale?” John asked Stiles.

Stiles smiled brightly, his eyes watering. “God, I do. I really do love him, Dad. He’s my forever.”

John shook his head, hands waving about like he was trying to clear the air. “I can’t believe this. You two are _actually_ married.”

“I think we would be actually married whether we were in love or not,” Stiles argued quietly, argumentative as ever.

John shot him a look. “You two aren’t in a marriage by force. You literally fell in love and got engaged just like everyone else. And instead of telling me, you let me believe you were being forced into a loveless marriage.”

There was a long moment of silence. Derek was holding his breath without meaning to but it could all end right there.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me.”

“I’d have told you eventually!” Stiles argued, but he was smiling.

Derek felt like he’d missed something.

“He told me!” John gestured towards Derek, though it was a lot less threatening now.

“Only because it was really hurting Stiles. You not knowing, I mean,” Derek admitted. “I don’t like Stiles hurting if I can help it.”

John studied him a moment. “I like him,” he said after a second.

Derek felt his eyes widen comically.

Stiles threw up his hands. “You hated him like two minutes ago. You called him a monster.”

John shrugged. “Apparently I didn’t know the whole story. And the way he talks? Your mother would have loved him. I was never very good at being romantic, but he sounds like he’s been ripping off Shakespeare. Does he always talk like that?”

Derek felt his cheeks warm up as Stiles began to laugh, his fondness floating between them.

* * *

 

 

  **March 5, 2016**

“No way!” Stiles said gruffly, arms crossing. “The agreement was that neither pack would have any members take up employment or attend school in Beacon Hills.”

“She’s an old woman,” Erica argued. “We’re just talking about a volunteering position at the library.”

“It still goes against the agreement,” Lydia said with a stern tone.

“Elsie just needs to get out more but maintain her independence. The library is close and comfortable for her,” Derek said slowly. “I don’t understand the problem.”

“This is an agreement we already have in place,” Stiles said, gritting his teeth with frustration. “You’re going to have to find an alternative thing for her to do.”

“Elsie can’t drive and we don’t have anyone that can regularly drive her.”

“Then find something for her to do for your pack,” Stiles replied. “I feel like that is obvious.”

“There is nothing!” Laura hollered, eyes flashing. “Derek, tell your husband he’s being ridiculous.”

You’re being ridiculous,” Derek deadpanned towards Stiles.

“This isn’t our problem,” Lydia said calmly.

“Unless you want to break that agreement,” Kira said, looking around the table. “I don’t think anyone wants that.”

“I thought we were trying to get along,” Derek growled, eyes on Stiles.

“Your demand isn’t reasonable. It isn’t fair to let one person work in town if no one else can,” Stiles frowned at him.

Deaton cleared his throat. “Alpha Hale, I’m sorry but the agreement is already in place. It does go against previously established rules.”

Laura nodded with pursed lips. “We realize this. We had just hoped that the McCall pack would be willing to discuss a reasonable exception.”

Stiles opened his mouth with a stormy look, but Scott waved him off.

“Maybe after some time we can reopen this for discussion, but for now we just can’t accept this as a fair understanding of the agreement.” Scott straightened in his chair as he spoke and everyone fell silent.

“I had hoped,” Deaton said with a sigh, “that after the Moon Union between Second Hale and Second Stilinski we would be able to reach agreements with more civil understandings.”

Peter snorted, shaking his head. “You were the only one.”

Erica smacked him in the arm.

They called it a day not long after that.

“You know what he’s feeling, right?” Scott asked in a low tone though there was nothing to stop any of the werewolves from listening in.

“Mhmm,” Stiles agreed.

“Who is more angry right now, you or him?” Kira asked, clearly amused.

“Him,” Stiles admitted, not looking up as he collected his belongings.

Kira smiled. “Good.”

Stiles gave her a light shove and fought back a grin.

It was then incredibly weird to watch Scott, Kira and Lydia head back towards McCall territory while Laura, Erica, and Peter stalked off the other way. Derek and Stiles were left to tread back along the territory line to their home together.

 “God I’m starving,” Stiles remarked as they took off walking. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

Derek was silent a moment. “I could grill up some burgers. But then you have to run to the store to get more buns.”

Stiles nodded in approval. “Burgers it is, then.”

Derek reached out without a word and took Stiles’ hand. “We really need to think of better ways to hash stuff out than yelling at one another in there.”

Stiles shrugged, tightening his grip on Derek. “I don’t know. You and I have always been like that. No matter what it is we seem to be more argumentative on the little stuff than able to really compromise.”

Derek bit his lip, considering. “Maybe we should rethink our rule of not bringing politics home with us.”

Stiles stopped, his hand stopping Derek as well. “I’m going to need chocolate cake after burgers if we’re doing that.”

“Sure,” Derek said with a bark of laughter.

 

_____________

 

 

“Like a chaperoned meeting?” Stiles asked, taking another bite of her burger.

“Kind of,” Derek agreed. “Pass the ketchup? Thanks.” He took the bottle from Stiles’ outstretched hand. “But if we did it here we could decide who to match up and try to keep it civil—try to find similarities enough that we can get each side to think of each other as people instead of just the enemy.”

Stiles made a face. “But when we talked about putting kids together….”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, but I’m talking one on one and not just kids. Just two people we think could get through an afternoon without fighting and then having them over here for a while. Have lunch or something.”

Stiles began to nod. He chewed his burger thoughtfully for a moment. “I don’t know if the Alpha’s would go for that. We’d have to start with really neutral people.”

* * *

 

  **March 16, 2016**  

“Then I’m going to need to bring the database home.”

“So he can look at it whenever he wants to? Absolutely not!” Laura crossed her arms over her chest.

Derek rolled his eyes. “He’s not try to gut me for information. We’re just working on something.”

“I have to agree with our Alpha. Even forgetting Second Stilinski living in that household, the idea of having sensitive information that close to the boarder isn’t wise.”

Derek had the strong urge to stick his nose out as his uncle.

“Then he’s going to have to come work here. On our territory. In my office.”

Laura pursed her lips and then shrugged. “Fine. We can keep our eyes on him that way.”

Peter sat back in his chair, studying his nephew. “What exactly are the two of you working on?”

“A compromise. Look, why don’t you shut up? I’m your Second.”

“And I’m your uncle.”

“You’re both stupid,” Laura said. “Fine. Stilinski can come over here to work and you there as long as I know every time.”

“Fine.”

 

_____________

 

Scott paused with the sandwich half way to his mouth. “What kind of project?”

Stiles chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Something to bring up at one of our meetings if Derek and I can get through it without fighting every two minutes.”

“Is that possible?”

 “Honestly?” he said with a shrug. “Probably not. But we’re going to try.”

Scott shifted his office chair closer to his desk, looking Stiles in the eyes. “Marriage is all about compromise.” He winked dramatically.

“I hate you.”

Scott grinned. “No you don’t.” he took a bite of his sandwich and tilted his head side to side like he was considering it. “Well, whatever you think then. I trust you.”

Stiles smiled back. “Thanks Scotty.”

* * *

 

 

  **April 19, 2016**

“What’s he doing here?” Erica asked, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. She wrinkled her nose fromt across the room.

They were seated in Derek’s office which was secluded. They had arrived early in the morning, before most people were out and about, but now it was nearly time for most people to be leaving for work.

Erica was dressed up, her hair pinned back in a way that made her eyes seem bigger. She was wearing less make up though, and Stiles was surprised to notice such a difference in her there than from their meetings.

“Working,” Derek replied without even looking away from his computer screen. And then to Stiles, “There was an altercation in 1995.”

Stiles looked back at him. “Property or person?”

Derek squinted, clicking on the keyboard. “Property.”

“What kind of work?” Erica asked, eyeing Stiles like she thought he may attack her.

The boys both ignored her.

“I’m not sure,” Stiles said. He tapped his pen against the desk top quickly, his face turned thoughtful. “Pass I think.”

“Pass?” Derek demanded, looking up. He looked incredulous. “For property damage in in 90s?”

Stiles scowled. “We’re trying to find the most neutral!”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles, his breath coming out in a quick huff. “Then we should be putting her on the ‘maybe’ list at the very most.”

Stiles glared at him a moment and then waved his arms up in the air. “Fine. The maybe list then.”

Derek nodded with a smile, pleased with winning.

Erica watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. “This is just too weird. Does Lau—Alpha Hale know he’s here?”

Derek finally looked over at her. “Of course Laura knows he’s here. Now go to work. We’re busy. Some of us actually need to get stuff done.”

Stiles smiled over at her. “Sorry, Erica. He’s just getting caught up in work. Did you come here for a reason? I can step out of the room if you need me to.”

Erica blinked, taken aback. “I—uh, no that’s fine. I just came to tell Derek—” She shook her head and stopped talking, looking at Derek. “Err, Cora told me to ask you if you’d be able to have Kyle with you next Monday. She’s got a thing I guess.”

Derek smiled instantly at the idea of Kyle. “Of course. Let her know before you take off”

“Yeah,” Erica said with a nod. Then she looked back and forth at the Seconds. “I’ll uh, see you later.”

Derek waved her off as she left.

Stiles watched Derek for a moment before smiling down at his papers, rolling his shoulders back to return to work.

* * *

 

 

  **April 30, 2016**

Scott growled at Jackson, his fangs showing. “Go home, Jackson.”

Jackson spat on the ground, his own eyes flashing. “I don’t understand why he’s just allowed to roam our territory when he’s murdered so many of our people.” His muscles were tense.

“Enough,” Scott said, his voice low. “I made an agreement that we would make this work. I swear to God, Jackson, you remember who is the Alpha. Second Hale is with Stiles and he wouldn’t let anyone get hurt.”

Derek’s instincts were screaming at him to attack the threat but Stiles was in front of him, separating him and Jackson. He licked his lips, eyes darting around. They were drawing eyes.

Jackson snarled, eyes flickering at Stiles. A moment passed like that, still and silent but for loud pants of air of anger.

“If you don’t trust my ability to keep our people safe then say it, Whittemore,” Stiles demanded, and Derek could see the way his fingers curled into fists. “My _husband_ is here with me to try to work past our differences so we can change how things are. We are trying to work together. If you don’t trust my judgement or my abilities than just say it.”

“Jackson,” Lydia said, striding closer, “just let it go.”

Slowly Jackson straightened, his eyes going back to normal. “You keep him away from our pack. He’s a monster, and we can never trust those people.”

But as Jackson stalked away, Stiles caught the eye of Jane Sawyer, a frown on her face as she stared at Derek. Her fingers clutched desperately at a chain around her neck where an old class ring dangled.

* * *

 

 

  **June 11, 2016**

“Oh,” Liam said, stopping in the doorway, “I didn’t realize that Second Hale would be here.” He looked nervous, his fists clenching on the edge of his shirt.

Stiles looked up from his work where he was huddled over papers with Derek. They had compiled a list nearly completely of everyone who was in both packs and organized them by their history of hatred. When they decided that wasn’t going to work they began to reorganize people by trying to match them up with people they thought they could find similarities with from the opposing pack. It was slow going.

“Oh! Hey Liam,” Stiles waved him in. “Yeah, Derek is joining us for lunch. I hope that’s okay.”

Liam blinked at his Second, unmoving. “Joining us for lunch,” he repeated.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind.”

Stiles got up from his chair and reached for the backpack he took with him back and forth from the house to the territory. “I made my casserole, just like I said I would.” He held the dish up like a bribe, tilting it from side to side. Stiles’ fingers began to turn red beneath the casserole, and an enticing smell filled the air. “And it’s nice and hot.”

“We have a microwave,” Liam said dryly, but took in a long inhale through his nose. His eyes fell back on Derek, uncertain.

Derek shrugged, trying to look nonthreatening even as his instincts were warning him to get into a defensive position. “If it makes you uncomfortable I’m sure John wouldn’t mind if I went and grabbed lunch with him instead.”

Liam shuffled into the room like he was forcing himself forward. “No,” he said slowly, “I—it’s fine.”

Derek nodded, looking at Stiles eagerly to get a helping of the casserole. But his awareness never quite left Liam nor the other way around. Still, Liam and Stiles began a harmless discussion about colleges. Derek remained silent, focusing on his food and just listening.

And he thought, for a moment, Liam had relaxed.

* * *

 

 

  **June 21, 2016**

“Go, go, go,” John shouted, waving his arms at the TV fiercely as if he could make the baseball fly out of the field by sheer determination.

Derek learned that, while he liked sports well enough, Stiles go this love of baseball from his father. At first Derek had thought that Stiles was a bit obsessed with it, but then he met John Stilinski and he realized that Stiles wasn’t anywhere near the level of a baseball enthusiast as his father.

The Stilinski’s were Met fans, but the rituals that went with it—the fan wear, the obsessive score checking, the regular hotdogs and chips on the sofa, it all seemed more like a religion for the two of them.

Stiles had gone quiet when he brought it up to Derek, that John had suggested Stiles bring Derek with him to watch the game. And Derek probably would have shrugged it off and declined the offer in favor of letting Stiles and John keep their father-son bonding time. Except the Moon Union connection sang with the nervousness that Stiles was trying not to show. Because apparently the invitation from John was a big deal.

Of course, John Stilinski wouldn’t even let anyone speak during the game unless they were either 1) yelling at the television, or 2) during a commercial break. It was nothing but chaos and increasing volume. Chips kept flying as Stiles and John got aggressive towards the screen. There was beer spilt on the sofa. Derek was uncomfortable in the slightly scratchy Mets jersey they’d just gotten for him.

And Derek loved the whole thing.

* * *

 

 

  **July 7, 2016**

“Get it!” Derek encouraged enthusiastically as Kyle tottered after the glowing, wispy frog hopped around the lawn.

Stiles laughed, watching Kyle try to catch his frog made of magic. “Oh so close, Kyle! C’mon!”

Kyle giggled, arms outstretched towards it. “Foggy! Foggy!” he said, mimicking it with his own hoping steps.

“What is that?” said a voice, demanding answers.

Stiles was startled to see two young girls making their way over. They were both watching the frog with wonder.

“Magic,” Stiles informed them honestly, grinning at them.

They both stopped walking, not daring to get any closer to the enemy. They’d probably been warned away from him but their curiosity seemed to be winning, and Derek was right there and everyone knew Derek was super strong.

“Can you make a kitty?” one of the girls asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him.

Stiles flicked his fingers at the shape and the frog changed mid-jump into a little kitten, rolling around on the grass.

“Wow,” said the younger of the two. She took a brave step closer to the magical kitten, fingers reaching out towards it. But Kyle reached it first, startled to find his fingers going right through the magical kitten.

“Taylor!” the other girl chastised. “You’re going to get in trouble.”

But Taylor ignored her in favor of turning to Stiles. “Can you make any animal?”

Stiles shrugged. “What do you want to see?” He felt a little like a clown making balloon animals, but kids were cute and Kyle was having fun.

“Can you do a dinosaur?” she asked, far more tentative than the other girl.

“Dinosaurs aren’t real anymore,” the other girl said, hands on hips. She seemed to suddenly decide to inch forward.

But Stiles shot his hands forward to allow the kitten to become a T-Rex, not quite going as terrifying as he could have because he didn’t want to scare Kyle.

“Roar!” Kyle cried at it, making hand motions towards the stomping, silent dinosaur.

“You want to see something?” Derek asked, speaking to someone behind Stiles.

Another group of kids, three boys and a girl, a little older than the others, were watching from a distance.

“My mom says that magic is evil,” one of the boys declared.

“You scared?” Taylor’s friend asked.

This seemed to throw the boy through a loop. He stared at her, his face twisting in anger. “No!” he said tightly and then jogged forward. The others tagged along behind him.

Stiles sent it through the many requests that quickly were shouted at him. _Dolphin. Unicorn. Tiger. Eagle. Lizard. Godzilla! Bunny._

“What the hell is going on?” Laura asked, eyes alarmed as she neared.

The kids didn’t seem to notice, too enthralled with the changing animal, running after it and mimicking it.

Stiles looked up sharply, uncertain. “It’s just uh, basic imagery magic. Is that…is that okay? I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable. Derek is here so I thought…”

But Laura was staring after it. “I’m too tired for this shit,” she informed him. And then to Derek. “Does Cora know that Stilinski has her son?”

Derek scowled at her. “ _We’ve_ got her son and I’m watching him. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt Kyle.”

Laura rolled her eyes and then grinned at her nephew. “Well they look like they’re having fun but Derek’s living with the backlash,” she said and then walked away, not without one more wary look at Stiles.

When Stiles had felt like he’d been through the entire animal kingdom and that the kids were starting to get bored with it, he laid back onto the grass and let Kyle climb over him.

“I’m going to get yelled at by some very unhappy parents later when they find out I just let their kids play with Second Stilinski and his evil, evil, magic,” Derek told him, hovering over him.

Kyle put his arms up expectantly, letting Derek pick him up.

Stiles just shrugged. “The kids back home aren’t as amazed by my magic anymore. It’s old news.”

Derek snorted. “So this was about you getting to how off?”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles agreed with a cheeky grin. “Kids are the best audience.”

* * *

 

 

  **October 19, 2016**

“Hey, you wanna do a supply check on Wednesday?” Scott asked, looking up from his computer.

Stiles looked up slowly, a bit distracted. “Hmm? Oh, no sorry. I’m taking the day off.”

Scott raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. Stiles didn’t really take many days off. “Yeah? Cool, cool. You doing something fun?”

“It’s Derek’s birthday so we thought the two of us might go out and spend the day at the ocean. He’s always wanted to go but he didn’t get around to it.”

“What?”

Stiles wanted to sigh loudly but held it back. “Well, obviously I don’t go far from the territory in case something happens and I’m needed. He does the same thing. Except he’s been a Second for a long time. He hasn’t really been out of his territory in a long time. Not really. So I figured if we both went for the day it sort of leveled the playing field, you know? Then both Seconds are gone.”

Scott digested this a moment and then suddenly he gave a giant grin. “That’s so nice of you, Stiles. I’m so glad that the two of you have been trying to get along. I know it can’t be easy, but I’m proud of you for actually making the most of this.”

Stiles just smiled back and went back to work.

Scott wouldn’t know that Stiles would spend that Wednesday walking along the shore with Derek, hand in hand. They’d have splash wars and build sandcastles and share ice cream and enjoy the sun, letting Derek soak in a new experience. They’d have to ask some passersby to take a few pictures of the two of them. They’d discover the awful nuisance of sand that came with beach sex.

Scott wouldn’t know that it was the best birthday Derek had ever had. Or that Stiles loved it just as much.

But it didn’t matter because Derek knew. Stiles knew.

* * *

 

 

  **November 12, 2016**

Cora was crying. Or rather, she had been at least. Her eyes were red and puffy-looking and despite the fact that she was a werewolf, she didn’t seem to realize that Stiles was there. She was in Derek’s office, her knees tucked close to her body and an incriminating box of tissues balanced on the edge of the desk.

He was frozen, uncertain how to proceed. Back out slowly? Walk in and pretend not to notice?

The decision was taken from him when she looked up, her eyes glowing as she saw him, clearly startled. She jumped to her feet. “Oh. You’re here today. I didn’t know,” she said, calm. “I was looking for Derek.”

Stiles nodded like a bobble head, clearing his throat. “No, yeah, I figured. He, uh—he’s just outside talking to Laura.”

Cora’s eyes dropped as she gave a curt nod in return.

Uncertain what to do with himself, Stiles stepped in through the doorway and stopped again. “Are you okay?” he asked compulsively. Derek loved his sisters, but he was particularly protective of Cora.

Cora looked alarmed at the question, her eyes growing and her arms going to grip around her waist.

Stiles’ eyes tracked the movement until they rested on her stomach where she was protectively cradling her own body. “Oh,” he said stupidly.

Cora took a step back, her thighs hitting the desk.

Derek chose that moment to enter in behind Stiles. He stilled, noticing Cora and then looking at Stiles. “What happened?” he asked, an easy smile falling from his face.

Cora shook her head obviously flustered and unused to being so. “Nothing. I’ll come back later, okay?”

But Stiles’ mouth opened without his permission. “She’s pregnant again.”

Both Cora and Derek went rigid in an identical manner that would have comical in another circumstance.

“I—Stilinski if you tell anyone I will—I’ll,” Cora trailed off as her eyes filled with tears again and she turned away, furious with the betrayal of her emotions.

“Cora that’s great!” Derek said, coming back to himself, a giant grin spreading across his face. His voice coming out thrilled. “Kyle will have a sibling! Does Isaac know?”

Cora turned back around to look at him, her lips turned up in a smile even as her eyes looked so sad. She simply said, “25%” with a clipped tone.

Derek’s shoulders slumped a little. “Deaton could—”

“He can’t,” she said, hands going up to wipe away her tears. “We got lucky last time. And in our family…luck isn’t exactly in abundance, Derek.” Cora’s hands moved down along her blouse, smoothing out wrinkles. “I’ll—we’ll talk about his later, okay?”

She pushed past both of them, a brisk walk.

Derek didn’t move.

_Concern. Frustration. Fear. Anger. Hope. Uncertainty._

Stiles rolled his shoulders back against the wave of Derek’s feeling in the connection. And then he began moving, not looking back.

“Cora!” he said, running after her. “Cora!”

It only took a moment to catch up with her. Her fury appeared as she turned at his approach, her claws and fangs being revealed at his threat.

He put his hands up, stopping at the distance. It was just the two them, standing at the doorway at the Center building of the Hale Pack territory.

“What do you want?” she growled.

“Let me do it.”

She faltered. “What?”

“Let me bless your pregnancy. I—please.”

Her fangs pulled back but her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Do not play with me, Stilinski. You will not like the results.”

“I’m serious. We’re family now…sort of. I don’t want to stand here why your baby is in danger when I can do something about it.”

Cora’s chin raised as her fingers curled into fists. “And what exactly is it that you want in return? Hmm?”

“No catch. I swear. I…a baby, Cora. I’m not a monster.”

She leveled a look at him. “You know that my pack can’t trust you. And Laura would never allow it.”

Stiles ran a hand through his hair nervously, looking at her through his lashes as he considered the options. “Let’s do it right now.”

“What?”

“No asking for permission, no catches, no nothing. Just a simple pregnancy blessing from your brother-in-law. An easy favor.”

She licked her lips, her hands going protectively to her stomach again. Stiles was so sure she’d say no. Of course she couldn’t trust him. No matter how desperate.

A beat passed though, and then, “Do it.”

Stiles blinked, startled. “You sure?”

She shook her head but said, “just do it before I change my mind you fucker.”

It was impulsive, maybe. Stupid, definitely. But Stiles didn’t think he could trick another spell out of everyone again.

“Okay,” he nodded, stepping forward slowly. “You should just feel a little warmth there, okay? It shouldn’t be uncomfortable or painful at all, alright?” She’d gotten one before, through Deaton, Stiles knew. But he couldn’t help it.

She just nodded.

Stiles reached out tentatively and placed his hands on her stomach.

She tensed up.

“Take a deep breath,” he told her calmly and then concentrated. His fingers began to tingle pleasantly as his magic encountered the presence of possibility in her womb. Twins. Both girls. But he wouldn’t say. He didn’t say anything. He just dropped his hands slowly, and took a step back.

She was breathing shakily, her whole body trembling with nervous energy. She didn’t speak either. They just stood there like that for a long moment until she looked up. Her eyes slid past him for a moment and then turned around, pushed open the door, and left.

Stiles turned around to see Derek leaning against the wall, smiling at him with shiny eyes. “Back to work?”

Stiles smiled back. “Yeah.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I originally planned to do 3 chapters but it took a bit longer than I thought so I guess it'll take 4. Promise it won't take nearly as long this time. Hope to posted by the end of April :) Take care!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I'm kinda nervous about this one and I had a really hard time posting it. I'd really like some feedback so leave me a comment if you've got the time! Thank you!!
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://writing-on-lifes-pages.tumblr.com/) I'd love to chat!


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